
KEMPTON'S 



ILLUSTRATED 



Vest 

Pocket 

Guide 



-TO- 



OlNCINNATI AND 

Vicinity 



COMPLETE 
CONCISE 



M, 
IS A CO 



Gives a 
interest 2 

A comij 
out of Cii 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

%p*— s^pfW Iti.- 

Shelf. ..hC-i^3 S7 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



us, a Map 
Liad a Map 



Ifc-V.S.'WV^.^'fcll 



INIBUS, 



Tells all about theaters, churches, hotels 
and outdoor amusements, etc., etc. 

Indispensable to the horseman, cyclist 
and pedestrian, as well as patrons of street 
cars, railroads, steamboats or omnibuses. 



Size, ?^4 X h^i, 64 pages. 

Price, bound in Leatherette, 25c 

WIIiLIAIVI D. KEMPTON, 
53 W. Ninth St., - CINCINNATI, O. 

(You wilt never be happy till you 
Ket a copy.) 




Garfield Monument. 




/yic£i<x<^ /07'6u^y£^7=^^ 



Star Dust 



SATIRE, HUMOR ANo 
PATHOS 



IN PROSE 

AND VERSE 



William D. Kempton 



("Stai^" of Porkopolis.) 



The loud laugh may "speak the vacant mind," 
But freer far are such from guile 

Than him of whom it can be said : 

He never yet has cracked a smile. 









Copyright, 1892, by 
WILLIAM D, KEMPTON. 



<1 







CHARLES H. THOMSON 

PRINT 
66 W. FOURTH ST., CINCINNATI, O. 



""Jm 



HIS BOOK 



Is not like the rain which falls 
alike on the just and 'the unjust. Oh, no, it is 
quite different. The unjust shall no longer get 
all the good things in life, for this book is to 
he sold only to those having a good moral 
character. 

Price, Bound in Cloth, One Dollar. 

If you can not get it of your bookseller, send 
your dollar to 

WILLIAM D. KEMPTON 
S3 W. Ninth Street, CINCINNATI, OHIO. 



©^hication. 



TJie casting about to fijtd 
sojne one to act as a sort of GodfatJier for this work 
has given the zoriter more trouble than has the 
i<.riting of tJie wJiole book. His first intention was 
to select a victim from his many friends^ but the 
difficidty in deciding on zvJdch one, and the fear that 
in so doing he nnght estrange the affections of all 
the rest, caused him to change his mind. He next 
turned to a number of living celebrities of sufficient 
prominence to deserve the compliment, but was 
confronted by another difficulty: the one selected might 
at some fiiture time be guilty of conduct which zvoidd 
cause the zcriter to regret his selection. He then 
began to look for some one so thoroughly dead as not 
to be open to this objection; but here was a new 
difficidty. Those zvhom he first hit upon had already 
had enough hojwrs of that kind conferred on them, 
but he finally found one to zvhom the zuorld owes a 
great deal, but zvJio nevertJieless in this respect has 
been shamefully neglected. This fact, and not the one 
that he is a distant relation of the zvriter, has caused 
him to dedicate this zvork to our common progenitor, 
Adam. 



PREFACE. 

I N old works on domestic inedicine may "be 
1 found prescriptions containing a formida- 
ble array of ingredients, on tlie theory that 
some one will he sure to hit, which are known 
as "shotgun prescriptions." 

The following collection of sketches is some- 
what on that order. In apologizing for them, 
however, the author does not urge lofty 
motives as an excuse for calling the attention 
of the public to them. On the contrary, he 
wishes it distinctly understood that they are 
some of the fugitive productions of idle mo- 
ments, and are intended for amusement only. 
If, therefore, their perusal should cause anyone 
for even the brief space of a half hour to forget 
the cares and annoyances incident to the strug- 
gle for existence in which we are all engaged, 
the author will feel that they have not been 
written in vain. 

WILLIAM D. KEMPTON". 



Table of Contents. 



The Author, Frontispiece 


Announcement 


• 5 


Dedication^ ...... 


7 


Preface, ....... 


• 9 


Table of Contents, .... 


II 


OF INTEREST TO CYCLISTS. 




An Ode to ye Ubiquitous Sprinklers, 


17 


''As Others See Us,'' 


17 


An Autograph, ..... 


i8 


The Decaying Village, .... 


19 


A Greeting, ..... 


20 


The Only True History of Cincinnati, 


21 


The Last Lay of the Mudhole, 


22 


A Christmas Story, .... 


• 23 


The Cyclometer's Victim, 


26 


''Time Works Wonders," 


. 27 


To Others., 


29 


Miamitown, ...... 


. 30 


Vaidting Ambition, .... 


33 


"Where Lgnorance is Bliss," >tc., 


. 36 


Aladdin s Lamp, ... 


37 


A Delightfd Tour, .... 


. 38 


TJie Scorcher, 


39 


The Antiqidty of the Bicycle, . 


40 


The Legend of the Bicycle, 


41 


A Reminiscence, ..... 


• 43 



A Would-be Aeronant, 
The Drink Question, 
In Heaven, 

Mephitis, 

A Modern Knight, 

Autumn, . . . . 

The Strike of the " Bike,'' . 

The Pumperniekel Bicycle Club, 

''Good Lord, Deliver Us,'' 

The Envious Spider, 

The Gift of the Gods, 

The Spinning Wheel, 

Out of Wind, 

The Reckless Coaster, 

There's Many a Slip, etc. , . 

A Spring Poem, 

An Epitaph, 



45 
46 

50 

51 

52 
53 
54 
55 
65 
66 

67 
68 
68 
68 
69 
69 
69 



AND OTHERS. 



That Chestnut Story, . 

Dudelsack vs. D 00 little, . 

Dr. Potts Theory, 

The Story of a Poem, 

Amenities of the Sickroom, 

An Allegorical Dream, 

In Defense of Mankind, 

CJiildhood Days, 

Alone, 

Life's Battlefield, 

Autographs, 



73 
76 

95 
98 
103 
104 
105 
106 
107 
107 
108 



Fame, ..•••• 

The Long-tailed Rat and the Dapper Mouse 

The Deserted Mill, .... 

S/iadoivSy ..... 

The Combination, 

The Violet's Plaint, 

A Rare Gift, .... 

A Synonym, . . . • • 

A Valentine, .... 

Imagination, . . . • . 

The First of April, 

Indigenous, ..... 

A Spnnky Maiden, 

Winter, ..... 

The Schoohna am, 

Nipped, 

But What Does It All Amount To f 



1 08 
109 
no 
I II 
1 1 1 
112 
112 
113 
113 
114 

115 
116 
116 
117 
118 
119 
120 




to Cd^tjcliate 



AN ODE TO YE UBIQUITOUS SPRINKLERS. 

A PARODY. 

Sprinkle, sprinkle, Water-cart, 
When I wander where thou art; 
If the roads be nice and dry, 
Always let the water fly. 

*' When the blazing sun is set. 
And the grass with dew is wet," 
Then the roads your soul delight, 
For they 're sloppy all the night. 

Then when I am in the dark, 
And the mongrels round me bark, 
I hardly know " which way to go," 
On the road you 've sprinkled so. 

Then, the mud which fills the holes 
Through which my spattered cycle rolls, 
Makes me hope with all my heart 
That from this world you '11 soon depart. 



''AS OTHERS SEE US." 

Sitting by the roadside near Springdale, O., were two 
of the most forlorn-looking dogs Hamilton County had 
ever seen; one a large, nondescript animal through whose 
veins coursed the blood of perhaps a thousand different 
breeds, the other a scrawny, mangey, sore-eyed skye ter- 
rier, who, just as the contestants in the road race whirled 
past, was heard to say to his companion : 

" Why is the man wearing that gray cap in such a 
hurry ?" 

''Oh, he's afraid he'll be beaten by the fellow with 
the corduroy pants, the sweat from whose brow is making 
the road so muddy, and the one with the red face who 

'7 



forgot his stockings. He needn't be afraid of him with 
the lump on his forehead, nor of him with a boil on his 
cheek, as neither are in condition. Just look at that 
pretty man with the high shoes ! The last time he came 
through here he turned the heads of all the girls so that 
now every single one of them has a wry neck. But the 
fellow with the black hair and dark eyes is the best of all, 
for his voice is as gentle as the sighing of a zephyr, as soft 
as the cooing of a dove, and as sweet as the gurgle of 
molasses from a jug, and when he sings the very birds 
stop and listen." 

" Why doesn't he sing now?" 

*' Dunno. Just look at that old man with the whis- 
kers! He wouldn't work that hard if he were paid a 
hundred dollars a day. Yet he is nearly killing himself 
now just to get to wear the club medal for four months ; 
and still they say dogs haven't any sense! I'm glad I'm 
a dog, aren't you?" 

"Well, I should—" 

The rest of his remarks were lost in the distance. 



AN AUTOGRAPH. 

When Time has touch'd thy shapely head, 

And whiten'd thy flowing beard ; 
When in thy broad and handsome brow 

Deep furrows have appear'd ; 
If then, dear Tom, on memory's page 

My name shall still be found, 
Recall, I pray, the pleasant hours 

That we've together found ; 
The hills that we've together climbd. 

Together, coasted down ; 
The chickens and the milk consum'd 

At dear Miamitown. 



THE DECAYING VILLAGE. 

When the railroad was in its infancy, and travel was 
restricted to the canal-boat and stage-coach, there flour- 
ished within twenty-five miles of ''Porkopolis" a certain vil- 
lage, which, as it now lies remote from the present high- 
ways of commerce, is in an advanced state of senile decay. 
The population, never large, has gradually diminished 
and, like the rickety fences, seems in need of support. 
Here is a vacant house, the remnants of whose clapboard 
roof are covered with moss and lichens ; there a small 
structure with the weather-boards gone in places, revealing 
the hewn logs that, no doubt, not only sheltered the pio- 
neer from the fury of the elements, but from hungry 
beasts and bloodthirsty savages as well ; across the way a 
solitary brick house with blinds minus many slats and 
innocent of paint; just beyond a more pretentious edifice, 
probably once the abode of the local Croesus, but now its 
rotting veranda bears the weather-beaten shingle of that 
social oracle, the village doctor. 

As the wheelman, after passing through this place, 
dashes down a grade and into another village with very 
modern buildings so freshly painted, with lawns so 
smoothly shaven and walks so painfully regular, he can 
not help comparing it to the successful man who, in his 
struggle for wealth, has pushed aside his more deserving 
competitor, and left him to die in obscurity. 



19 



A GREETING. 

(From Programme of Tenth Annual Meet of Ohio Division, L. A. \V.) 

To the L. A. W. members 

In the grand old State, Ohio, 

Where the fierce, untamed ^Coshocton 

In the Branches of ^Muskingum, 

Shrieks a loud and bold fDefiance 

To the wild-eyed ^^Tuscarawas ; 

Where the gentle ^Ashtabula 

Crouches low with fear and trembling 

As the grim old *Cuyahoga 

Shakes the earth in rage and anger ; 

Where the turbulent ^Scioto 

At the feet of tChillicothe 

Pleads in vain the burning passion 

That consumes his heaving bosom; 

Where the beautiful *Miamis 

Side by side, like happy lovers, 

Down the valleys slowly wander, 

Building castles light and airy ; 

Where the *Maumee sweetly singeth, 

As she glides along so gently, 

Songs of love so soft and plaintive 

That our hearts are touched with sadness ; 

Where the rushing, roaring *Hocking 

And the dashing young -'Sandusky 

Laugh and scorn the feeble moaning 

Of the melancholy *Auglaize; 

Yea, to each and every member 

In the dear old State, Ohio, 

Do the Cincinnati wheelmen 

Extend a warm and cordial greeting. 



■Rivers in Ohio. tCilies in Ohio. 



THE ONLY TRUE HISTORY OF CINCINNATI. 

(From Programme of Tenth Annual Meet of Ohio Division, L. A. W.) 

Cincinnati, the oldest city in the United States, was 
founded A. D. 1007, by Thor Finn, who, following in the 
wake of Lief the Fortunate, landed on the coast of New 
England, and at once started inland on a tour of discov- 
ery. After suffering many and untold hardships he and 
his followers reached the headwaters of the Ohio, down 
which they floated till they reached the site of our city. 
Impressed with the fitness of the location and the pictur- 
esqueness of the surroundings, Thor Finn immediately 
founded a. city, to which he gave the name of " Pork- 
opolis." It grew and thrived till the year 1494, when Mr. 
C. Columbus, while huntmg in the wilds of Kentucky, 
learned — very much to his surprise — of its existence, and 
forthwith pillaged and destroyed the city and put to death its 
inhabitants. Not satisfied with the perpetration of this dia- 
bolical act, he made his followers swear never to mention 
the circumstance, which may account for the silence of 
historians on this subject. A little over a century ago 
the city was rebuilt, and now, though it has neither a 
Washington Monument, a Statue of Liberty nor an Obe- 
lisk, yet there are many objects to attract and interest the 
visitor. Five magnificent bridges span the Ohio and bind 
her to her children, Covington and Newport. Scattered 
about the city are numerous evidences of the sculptor's 
art, the most striking of which is the Tyler-Davidson 
Fountain, the finest in the world; Music Hall, the munifi- 
cent gift of Reuben Springer, seats six thousand and con- 
tains an organ with six thousand pipes ; Eden Park, with 
the Art Academy and the West Art Museum ; Burnet 
Woods Park, a square mile in extent; the Zoological Gar- 
dens — these and a thousand and one other attractions that 
the Wheelmen of Cincinnati will only be too glad to point 
out to you. 



THE LAST LAY OF THE MUDHOLE. 

As humble, as meek and as low 

As the plant that blooms in the shade, 

Here at the foot of this hill 

For mmy a long month have I laid. 

How often by great heavy wheels 

Has my bosom been crush'd and bruis'd, 

By the horses' sharp iron shoes 
Been torn and sadly contus'd. 

At last I have had my revenge — 
Revenge that was sudden and sweet 

As the rain that follows a drouth. 
Or a foe's unexpected defeat. 

Up o'er the crest of the hill, 

All dressed in a suit of blue. 
Comes a jaunty young bicyclist 

On a wheel that is bright and new. 

See, o'er the handles he throws 
Those 1— s so shapely and plump, 

As he casts an amorous glance 

At the milkmaid working the pump. 

Oh, see, in my bosom he lands ; 

My bosom all covered with mud ; 
Then hear how he strikes the ground 

" With a dull and a sickening thud." 

Oh, see on his face so marr'd 
That woebegone look portray'd. 

As he picks himself up and hears 
The scornful laugh of the maid. 

22 



A CHRISTMAS STORY. 

One night, just a week before Christmas, as little 
Gottlieb Blitzenstrahl lay all alone in his bed, wondering 
what treasures Santa Claus had in store for him, and had 
thought of everything from a nimble jack which could be 
bought for a cent, to a pony and cart, without being able 
to decide what he wanted, or, rather, what he did not 
want, a window at the foot of his bed was softly raised. 

Startled by the sound, soft as it was, Gottlieb quickly 
drew the bed clothes over his head and lay there for several 
moments, expecting every instant to be carried bodily 
away by either a ghost or a burglar. 

No such calamity resulting, however, his alarm soon 
subsided, and, peeping out from under the blankets, he 
saw at the open window a chubby little fur-clad dwarf 
pointing toward something in the yard below. 

Reassured by the pleasant smile which lit up his rosy 
face, and being somewhat curious to know just what 
might be outside, Gottlieb crept out of bed and cautiously 
approached the window. 

No sooner had he caught a glimpse of a sleigh with a 
team of reindeer than he was whisked out of the window 
by the dwarf, who, after quickly wrapping him up in a 
robe of bear skin, and placing him in one corner of the 
sleigh, climbed in after him, and giving his team a signal, 
they were off like a flash. 

Noiselessly they flew along, now over the housetops, 
now past a church where the people were gathered in 
worship, now past houses through the windows of which 
they could see litde children peacefully sleeping, now over 
the icy bosom of a river, now far up in the air over a 
great city, whose many lights looked like a handful of 
diamonds sprinkled over the ground. On, on they flew 

23 



till a star appeared in the distance, small at first, but grad- 
ually growing larger till it was no longer a star, but an 
immense icy palace, lit up by millions of little wax 
candles. 

As they draw up before this strange building the 
doors swing open and little Gottlieb and his captor enter. 

This must surely be heaven, thought little Gottlieb, 
as he viewed with astonishment the mountains of ice 
cream, the pyramids of delicious cake, the apparendy un- 
limited supply of nuts and fruits, and the endless variety 
of toys. 

For a few moments he stood as one bewildered, and 
then, with eyes so widely opened that it seemed impossi- 
ble for them ever to be closed again, he began in an 
ecstacy of glee to run from one object to another, ex- 
claimmg, "Oh, don't I wish I had that! Oh, don't I 
wish I had this '. Oh : Oh '. isn't that nice : Oh my ! 
wouldn't I like to have that I " as his eyes fell now on a 
fiddle, now on a drum, a sled, a pair of skates and a 
thousand other articles so dear to the heart of the small 
but vigorous boy. 

Thus he ran to and fro, till suddenly he came to a 
stop before a handsomely nickel-plated boy's safety bicy- 
cle. Fiddles, drums and skates were immediately forgot- 
ten. He had eyes for nothing else. Wasn't it a beauty ? 
Real rubber tires, just like a man's wheel ! A real bell 
that would ring ! How springy the saddle I How shiny 
the handle-bar and spokes ! x\nd then the tool-bag 1 A 
real wrench and a screwdriver ! An oil-can that would 
710/ leak! Was there ever anything so wonderful ? Oh, 
that was just what he wanted ! 

No part of the machine escaped his scrutiny. He 
applied the brake, examined the chain and twirled the 
pedals; but just as he squeezed the oil-can a jet of its 

24 



contents struck him in the eyes, and he felt so drowsy that 
he would have fallen to sleep on the ground had he not 
been picked up by the dwarf and again placed in the sleigh. 

On awaking next morning he was greatly surprised 
to find himself in bed. He sprang to the floor and ran to 
the window, but neither track nor hoof-print were to be 
seen. 

Puzzled in the extreme, he donned his clothes and 
went to breakfast. Much to his mother's alarm he left his 
food untouched. At school he saw^ safeties on every page 
of his books, and even the figures on the blackboard went 
through the performance of some 'very queer maneuvers. 

When Saturday came and he went down town to look 
at the windows of the toy stores, he saw in one of 
them the exact counterpart of that safety, and the more 
he looked at it the more certain he became that he was 
destined to own that very identical machine; and oh, how 
impatiently he counted the hours that must elapse between 
that time and Christmas morning. 

Never did a boy look forward more eagerly to that 
morning, never did time pass so slowly, and never was a 
boy more certain as to what the day would bring forth. 

The night before Christmas at length arrived, and 
after hanging up his stocking and placing two chairs be- 
neath it to receive the bicycle, little Gottlieb crawled into 
bed, firmly determined to lie awake till his presents ar- 
rived ; but like a great many other little boys who have 
tried the same experiment, he was soon fast asleep. 

When he awoke he saw that Santa Claus had come 
and gone while he slept, for on the chairs, in full view, 
were a bag of candy, a silk handkerchief, a pocket knife 
with a pearl handle, some oranges and nuts and a hand- 
somely bound gilt-edged Bible. " Only these and nothing 
more." 

25 



THE CYCLOMETER'S VICTIM. 

In a great Western city 

Lived a man, tough and gritty, 
With a love for cycling intense ; 

He could climb any grade 

That ever was made. 
Then boast of feeling immense. 

Alas I what a pity 

This man, tough and gritty, 
At last should be so undone ! 

A cyclometer prize 

Did dazzle his eyes — 
He raced like the D— ickens and won. 

After each long trial 

He'd look at the dial. 
And say to his friends, " What fun I" 

But still it cried more. 

Till he finally swore 
He'd start on a century run. 

With his cycle beside him 

In a heap they did find him, 
By the side of the road where he laid ; 

Then read his cyclometer, 

As did the thermometer, 
One hundred and one in the shade. 



26 



''TIME WORKS WONDERS." 

Once upon a time there sat by the side of the road, 
on an exposed root of a honey locust tree, a widowed 
tumble-bug. As she wiped the tears from her eyes with 
a dainty hemstitched handkerchief, made from the finest 
spider-web, she was heard to say to a fuzzy red caterpillar 
close by : 

"No, I shall never find another like him. He was 
always so kind and considerate. He was so afraid I would 
overdo myself, that when we came to a steep place, as 
we were rolling the ball along, he always took the lower 
side and insisted on my taking the upper, and it was then 
that that wheel, with that dreadful man on it, came along 
and crushed the life out of him. Oh ! Oh ! I know I shall 
never find another like him I" 

" I know it is sad," sympathized the caterpillar. " I 
have often envied you when I noticed how attentive he 
was, for I have never known what it was to have either 
father, mother or companion. I have frequently won- 
dered how I should feel to have some one to care for me 
as he cared for you. I feel so lonesome at times I can 
hardly eat, and am often in need of sympathy." 

"Tut! Tut!" exclaimed a large and vicious-looking 
gray spider, "worry over a husband? Why, they're the 
greatest nuisances in the world. But why don't you get 
revenge for his death ?" 

" What can I do ?" sobbed the young widow. 

"Well, you can't do much, that's a fact," said the 
sarcastic spider, "but I'll do what lean for you. I'll 
hang from that limb that reaches over the path, and when 
the next one of those fellows comes along I'll give him a 
bite that will make him fall to the ground, and — " 

27 



"Good! Good!" shouted a hornet, as he sharpened 
his rapier on a pebble, "that's the way to serve 'em! 
Teach 'em to be a little more careful in dealing out death 
and destruction as they ride about the country. I'll help 
you in the good work. I'll get my brethren to assist me. 
We'll investigate his hosiery; we'll perforate his knicker- 
bockers ; we'll give him the Odd Fellows' grip ; we'll raise 
Indian mounds on his forehead and make him behold the 
most brilliant pyrotechnical display he ever saw in his 
life." 

The next wheelman who passed that way would no 
doubt have fared badly, indeed, had not the widow fort- 
unately found another companion, the hornet forgot his 
appointment and the spider been gobbled up by a Thanks- 
giving turkey. 




28 



fT ^ *- r- ^ "T* "^ '^ * ..'^. 



€^ 




TO OTHERS. 



To you who smile when you hear our name 

And think some other better, 
Pray read this truthful narrative, 

And its moral carefully ponder : 
'Tis said there was once a man who owned 

A mangey, sore-eyed doggy ; 
'Twas minus a tail and one front leg, 

And was altogether "groggy." 
This canine's life the wanton boys 

With sticks and stones tormented, 
Till, finally, the aforesaid man 

Their cruelty resented ; 
And so to make them all respect 

This noble mongrel scion, 
And strike with fear their coward hearts, 

He called the poodle LION. 



^- From the Hand-Book 
for 1890. 



)f The " Porkopolis " Wheelmen 



29 



MIAMITOWN. 

What place to wheelmen's hearts so dear, 
So well deserves renown 
For charming scenes and such good cheer, 
As quaint Miamitown ? 

At a point fifteen miles northwest of Cincinnati, 
where the Cincinnati and Harrison Turnpike crosses the 
placid Big Miami River, lies a sleepy little hamlet, which 
the postoffice authorities call Miami, but which the wheel- 
men of Cincinnati persist in calling Miamitown. 

In 1816, when the Big Miami was still a navigable 
stream, a dam was built, a mill erected, and the village 
founded. For a time all went well, the population in- 
creased and the citizens began to look on their village as 
a possible future metropolis. 

The gradual shoaling of the river and the building of 
railroads ihat did not pass through Miami soon diverted 
to other channels the trade and commerce that had stim- 
ulated her growth, and it was not long till, like the hiber- 
nating animal, she sank to sleep. 

The population has diminished one-half, and not a 
few of the houses have decayed and been destroyed. The 
small windows of the old mill look out over the river no 
longer. In 1887 it was remodeled and modernized, and 
now looks as ill at ease as the laborer in his Sunday 
clothes. 

On the bank of the river, within a stone's throw of 
the mill, is a small, rude structure, whose clapboard roof 
and walls of rough and illy-fitted boards suggest the abode 
of poverty and want. The interior, with its backless 

30 



wooden chair, its decrepit stove, its ancient bureau, its 
feeble and rickety bedstead, with soiled and tumbled bed- 
ding ; its uneven floor, littered with fuel, dirt and trash ; 
and the appearance of the solitary occupant, with his low 
and narrow forehead, surmounted by a mat of grizzled 
hair, his foxy eyes, his open mouth revealing a few filthy 
snags, his ragged beard and his patched and seedy cloth- 
ing, tend but to confirm this impression. From inquiries 
among his neighbors I learned that his name is Elisha 
Cleaver, that he was born in Pennsylvania in 1835, and 
that when quite young he had drifted with his parents to 
his present location. 

As a child, he was said to be odd; as a youth, pe- 
culiar; and as a man, queer. 

In '61, charmed by the noise of a fife and a drum, he 
enlisted in Company D, of Fremont's Body Guard, and it 
is said that during the three years of his soldier-life the 
whistling of the bullets and the shrieking of the shells 
were, to his feeble intellect, weird music, inspiring him to 
deeds of reckless valor. 

At the close of the war, his parents being dead, he 
supported himself by trading in melons, assisting his 
neighbors, and, m fact, at anything he could get to do. 

At present, however, he does very little, as he is 
labormg under the delusion that, like the Apostle John, 
he is a "fisher of men." 

He makes frequent trips to the city on urgent gov- 
ernment business, the nature of which he will impart to 
no one. It is also said that on dark and stormy nights he 
may be seen by the lightning's flash standing in the door 
of his hut, midst the swish of the rain, the howling of the 
wind, and the crash of the thunder, waving aloft an old 
and rusty sword, as though he were leading the celestial 
orchestra. 

31 



The magnet which attracts such numbers of wheel- 
men to this place, however, is the bounteous meal served 
by the genial hostess of the Chambers House. When it is 
said that the road to Miami is a succession of hills, and 
that the dinner is one that would tempt the gods, the 
reader need not be surprised to learn that the wheelmen 
do such justice to it that their machines are in danger of 
breaking down under the additional weight. 



A bright little five-year-old girl, who had frequently 
listened to a certain wheelman's account of the delights 
of a run to Miamitown, was heard to say, ''Mamma, 
when I get big, won't you get me a bicycle so I can 
so to His-amitown ?" 




32 



VAULTING AMBITION. 



John Durchfall was a dry-goods clerk, 

With manners mild and meek, 
Who notions, shirts and collars sold 

At four-and-a-half a week. 
Ambition had not stirred his breast ; 

With life he was content. 
As to and from his humble task 

He daily came and went. 



Alas, this uneventful life 

Was doomed to be disturb'd, 

And Johnny DurcMaWs piece of mind 
To be from hence perturb'd. 

He saw, in a window he daily pass'd, 
A sight that fir'd his brain. 

He paused to look — went on his way- 
Then came and looked again. 



He read on a card, so neatly tied 

To a wheel of antique mold. 
How ne'er again so wondrous cheap 

Would such a wheel be sold. 
Now, Johnny had the cash saved up, 

But hardly could decide 
Whether to buy a suit of clothes 

Or buy the wheel and ride. 

33 



At night he scarce could sleep a wink 

For thinking of the wheel — 
By day the need of a suit of clothes 

He frequently would feel. 
The wheel, at length, the victory wins 

And Johnny quickly flies 
To get the cash and then secure 

That rare and wondrous prize. 

The dealer smiled when he made the sale — 

A very lucky one — 
For the wheel ran as hard as any dray, 

And almost weighed a ton. 
But Johnny took no note of this, 

His heart was filled with pride. 
The only thing that worried him 

Was how to learn to ride. 

That night, as he lay on his meagre bed, 

He dreamed, as ne'er before. 
He coasted moonbeams and flew through the air 

As swift as a meteor. 
He rode up the hills and sped o'er the plains 

For many and many a league. 
He rode from morn till late at night 

Without the least fatigue. 

The morning came and Johnny hied 

To a secluded street. 
In order that his first attempts 

No critic eye should meet. 
The handles seized with vise-like grip, 

His foot upon the step. 
He looked to the right and then to the left, 

And then began to skip. 
34 



He hopp'd and skipp'd, and skipp'd and hopp'd, 

And yet no progress made, 
He paused to wipe his dripping brow, 

Then sang out : " Who's afraid ?" 
At last he gave a sudden spring 

And on the saddle sat, 
The wheel stood still, but Johnny lit 

Square on his Sunday hat. 

Slowly he picked himself from the street 

And looked at his ruined clothes, 
Then tried to staunch the scarlet stream 

Which flowed from his Grecian nose. 
He raised the wheel from off the ground 

And painfully limp'd by its side. 
As he sorrowfully said to those about : 

'' I do not care to ride." 

Next day there appeared on a newspaper page 

A modest little ad, 
Which told, in few and simple words. 

Of a bargain to be had 
By such as wished to get a wheel, 

Their leisure to beguile, 
And how this very desirable wheel 

Had not been ridden a mile. 



35 



" WHERE IGNORANCE IS BLISS," ETC. 

One warm midsummer day, when the air was full of 
moisture and the mercury making desperate efforts to 
reach the top of the thermometer, a solitary wheelman 
was toiling up a steep, rough and uninviting grade. As 
dripping with perspiration and gasping for breath he 
reached its summit, he was met by a team, and as he 
bounced about over the bumps and ridges in attempting 
to pass it, the off horse said to the near one : " That does 
my heart good ! Oh, that all mankind might be com- 
pelled to toil and sweat over these wretched thoroughfares, 
that they might realize how our lives are embittered and 
abbreviated by the parsimony which provides such miser- 
able highways!" 

The cyclist was again in the middle of the road, and 
was with difficulty picking his way over the uneven sur- 
face, when he was set upon by a loudly barking cur, and 
in attempting to divide his attention between the dog and 
the ruts he suddenly came to grief. "My, what fun!" 
maliciously exclaimed the dog, as he turned, and seeing 
the mischief he had wrought, ran through an open gate. 

Slowly and painfully the wheelman gathered himself 
together, climbed into the saddle, and resumed his jour- 
ney. As he turned off at a cross roads, a dilapidated 
barnyard fowl, perched on a stump, flapped its wings and 
cried: "Ha! There goes the voracious glutton who 
feasts on my offspring ! Down with the villain ! '' 

Onward, still onward, our wheelman sped, and as he 
was coasting a passably fair grade, a bird perched on the 
topmost bough of a lofty oak, sang to its mate : ' ' See ! Here 
comes one who has fled from the noise and smoke of the 
crowded city to this secluded vale, that he may breathe 

36 



pure air and revel in scenes that will make him forget the 
discomforts of his noisome prison." 

Onward, still onward, our wheelman pressed. Alas, 
all these remarks were lost on him, as he understood the 
language of neither bird nor beast. 



ALADDIN'S LAMP. 

When I was young and free from guile, 
And believ'd whate'er I heard, 

I read the story of Aladdin's Lamp 
And doubted ne'er a word. 

And now, when my brow is deeply seam'd 

And people call me old, 
I still believe the story true 

No matter what I'm told. 

You smile, I see, but then I've heard 

Far stranger tales than that. 
I've heard of wheelmen climbing hills 

As steep as Ararat. 

Of taking runs so very long. 

In time so very brief, 
That Father Time, left far behind, 

Had almost died of grief. 

I've heard of feats so marvelous, 

By novices achiev'd. 
That I'm convinced, say what you may, 

Aladdin must have liv'd. 

37 



A DELIGHTFUL TOUR. 

It is now that the cycling tourist, returning from his 
vacation, dehghts in recounting to his less favored breth- 
ren the many pleasures of his recent trip. We listen, we 
applaud and congratulate, for many of us are like the galley 
slave, whose only vacation will be spent in that narrow 
house built by the sexton. Yet, strange as it may seem, 
at the conclusion of our daily toil, we often start on ex- 
tended tours. With sails unfurled and feet on footrests, 
we are wafted over roads that are smooth and grades that 
are easy; now beside a stream whose noisy babbling seem.s 
to challenge us to a trial of speed ; again through a forest 
where the breath of the flowers, the voices of birds and 
the umbrageous retreats invite repose; row pausing at an 
inn, where a banquet more sumptuous than Aladdin ever 
dreamed of is served by a host who treats us as guests, 
and will accept no remuneration. Where ? Ah, in the 
Land of Nod. 



38 



THE SCORCHER. 

Charm'd by the sweet and melodious notes 

That pour'd from a score of feather'd throats, 

Breathing the hay's dehcious scent, 

As through the fields my course I bent; 

Far down the road I chanced to spy 

A man on a wheel w^hich seemed to fly. 

As past where I stood, like a rocket he went, 

I saw on his face a look so intent ; 

A look of pain and anxious haste, 

That seemed to say, "No time must I waste," 

For blind and deaf to nature's display, 

With downcast eyes he sped on his way. 

*'It must be a case of life and death," 
I said to myself with bated breath ; 

" At the door of death some dear one is laid, 
And he doth haste for medical aid. 
Oh fly, thou wheel, with the wings of the wind. 
That he that aid may speedily find, 
And again to health that lov'd one restore. 
Hasten, I pray thee, beg, and implore." 

* ;r ^ * ^v i-: i-- * ■;> ^:f ^ 

Alas, my friends, it was all a mistake, 

He was only trying a record to break. 

He rode like a fool, and never once stopp'd 

Till, his heart giving out, from his wheel he dropp'd 

And gave up the ghost on the ground where he lay. 

Biit he beat the recoi'd three seconds, they say. 



39 



THE ANTIQUITY OF THE BICYCLE. 

The origin of the idea embodied in the rear-driving 
safety is by no means as recent as some would have us 
believe, for in the writings of Confucius, who was born 
in the year 551 B. C, is a description of a machine very 
similar to those now in use, the model of which was 
destroyed and the inventor imprisoned because the reign- 
ing emperor considered it too great an innovation for that 
conservative age. And again, in the lately discovered 
tomb of the Pharoah that oppressed the Jews, there is said 
to be a hieroglyphic representing a safety machine with 
spade handles. And further, in the recently published 
translation of Kalevala, an old Finnish poem, occur the 
following lines : 

" Sailing through the azure vapors, 
Sailing through the dusk of evening, 
Sailing to the fiery sunset. 
Was the ancient Wainamoinen ; 
On a wheel both strong and graceful. 
Made of steel and India rubber. 
Made with balls in every bearing, 
Sailed the ancient Wainamoinen " 



40 



THE LEGEND OF THE BICYCLE. 

'Twixt the Little and Big Miamis, 
Near the mouth of Mak-e-te-wah,* 
Sat and smoked a band of Shawnees. 
Long they sat in silence smoking, 
Till at length a wither'd sachem, 
Full of years and ripe with wisdom. 
Slowly rose and thus addressed them : 

•' Hear ye not the distant thunder 
Of the storm, that, fast approaching, 
Soon will sweep the fated red man 
From the place where dwelt his fathers? 
On our shores the hated pale face, 
From the land across the water. 
Builds his fire and sets his teepee, 
And wiih all his many warriors 
Scorns the feather'd bow and arrow ; 
For he fights with sticks that speak with 
Tongue of fire and voice of thunder. 
I am old and weak and feeble, 
Soon my sun will set forever. 
But there's naught but fire and slaughter 
For the children born to-morrow ; 
Vain is hope and vain resistance ! 
Doomed the red man ! I have spoken ! " 
Scarcely ceased the aged sachem, 
When arose their tried physician. 

(Squinting eyes and nose distorted, 
Crooked limbs and back protruding.) 
Know^n to him were arts mysterious ; 
Herbs that cure and herbs that poison. 
Charms that heal, and spells that prostrate. 



* The Indian name for Mill Creek, a stream which flows 
through the western part of Cincinnati and empties into the Ohio. 

41 



Thus he spoke to those about him: 

" Age has made our father timid, 
Second childhood is upon him. 
Fear no more the hated pale face 1 
I have wrought a charm so potent 
From our shores he soon shall flee." 
Turned he then unto his teepee, 
Entered it — then reappearing, 
Bore a strange, unique contrivance. 
Wheels it had of queer construction. 
Tires and felloes— fleetest blacksnake 
Held by spokes of red deer's sinews. 
Frame of grapevine — tough, elastic — 
Eagle wings in place of pedals. 
Vertebrae of dreaded rattler 
Formed the chain conveying power. 
While they gazed in simple wonder. 
Thus he spoke of his invention : 

" O'er the teepee of the pale face 
I will hover as he sleepeth, 
And shall cast upon his people 
Spells to make him wild and frantic, 
Make him plunge in deep Atlantic, 
Make him leave this land forever." 
Seizing then the dogwood handles. 
As he breathed an incantation. 
Vaulted quickly to the saddle. 
Then they gazed and then they wondered, 
As he rose above the tree tops, 
As he floated off to eastward. 
As at length he disappeared. 
Then began a patient waiting 
For the time of his returning. 
For the time that, never coming, 
Brought but bitter disappointment. 



A REMINISCENCE. 

In the dim and distant past, so long ago that I can 
not now remember the exact date, I became the happy 
owner of a bicycle, and as soon as I learned how to ride 
I started off on a tour. I toured and toured and toured, 
till I reached an uninhabited country where I would have 
perished with hunger had I not fortunately provided my- 
self with a supply of wiener-wurst. 

After wandering through this barren wilderness for 
several days, I came to Zion's Hill and had just succeeded 
in surmounting it when my eyes were greeted by the sight 
of fine roads stretching in every direction, in marked con- 
trast to the rough and hilly roads I had been riding over. 
Hastening forward, without pausing to catch my breath, 
I was on the point of entering this elysium by the gateway 
when I was confronted by an old codger, who sprang 
from a clump of bushes and exclaimed: " Hi there! You 
can't come in here without a park badge ! " 

" You don't say so," says I. 

" Yes I do," says he, " and I mean it as sure as my 
name's Adam 1 " 

" So, you're Adam," says I, " and this is the Garden 
of Eden ? " 

" Right you are, sonny," says he^ "and you want to 
move on." 

I moved on and kept on moving till I met a solitary 
wheelman, who, as I dismounted to shake hands with him 
and inquire the way, asked : 

"Are you a member of the League of American 
Wheelmen ?" 

"What's that?" says I. 

43 



"Why," he says, ''it's the greatest, grandest, and 
most glorious organization that ever existed." 

" Oh!" says I. 

" Yes," says he, "and it will protect and defend you 
wherever you go." 

" Do tell," says I. 

*' What's more," says he, "the members get reduced 
rates at all League Hotels." 

" Laws sakes," says L 

"Yes," says he, "and we're going to have all the 
roads made as smooth as a floor." 

"Won't that be nice ? " says L 

" And you get a paper every week," says he. 

" Get out! " says L 

"Yes, sir," says he, "and whenever you come to 
a town when you are on a tour the people will turn out 
with a brass band to meet you." 

"Well, well!" says I, "and can you get into the 
Garden of Eden ? " 

"Of course," says he; "just show your League 
ticket and old Adam will drop on his knees, knock his 
forehead against the ground, and say, ' the place is yours, 
help yourself.' " 

" And what does it all cost ? " says I. 

" Only a dollar," says he, as he drew out some appli- 
cation blanks from his pocket. 

" Stop a bit," says I. "A dollar is a sight of money 
these hard times. I'll think about it a while before I join." 

Replacing the blanks in his pocket, we shook hands 
once more and went our separate ways. 

Several years later I attended a meeting of wheel- 
men in Cincinnati, who were indignating over an at- 
tempt on the part of the chief of police to stop bicycle 

44 



riding on the asphalt streets. Governor Foraker and 
Mayor Smith were present, and each had something to 
say, but the one to whom the wheelmen listened with the 
greatest attention was the solitary wheelman whom I had 
met years ago. 

"Who is he ? " says I to my neighbor on the right. 

"Why," says he, "that's T. J. Kirkpatrick, Chief 
Consul of the Ohio Division." 



A WOULD-BE AERONAUT. 

Said a lad who aspired to be a high flyer, 
As he saw a wheel with a pneumatic tire, 
High o'er the heads of the crowd I could pass, 
If the tires were but filled with hydrogen gas. 

Straight to the store of the dealer he hies. 
And picks out a tire of generous size, 
And to further assure the success of his plan, 
He adds a monster electrical fan. 

When the tires were inflated with hydrogen gas. 
The curious public assembled en masse 
To see him start on his trip to the skies 
And he strained every nerve to make the thing rise- 
but it wouldn't. 



45 



THE DRINK QUESTION. 

Among the first things acquired on a run by a new 
rider is a consuming thirst, to quench which he has 
recourse to different Hquids varying in strength from 
Adam's ale to the juice of the corn. 

If he is alone there is nothing to compel him to im- 
bibe more than he wants, but if he has several companions 
he will almost invariably ask them to drink at his expense, 
and, as they will insist on reciprocating, he will be com- 
pelled to drink more than he wants even if it is no more 
stimulating than lemonade or ginger ale. When there are 
but two or three in the party the evil is not so apparent 
as it is when there are ten or a dozen. 

In recognizing this evil and attempting to control it, 
some bicycle clubs have adopted the plan of collecting a 
certain sum from each member just before starting on a 
run, which fund is placed in the hands of the captain who 
makes all disbursements till the fund is exhausted, when 
another collection is raised, and so on till the run is com- 
pleted. 

If all of the members of a club were equally inclined 
to drink, this plan would work to perfection, but they are 
not and probably never will be. Some drink more than 
is good for them simply because they are paying for it, 
and one may drink too much lemonade, seltzer or ginger 
ale as well as stronger drinks. Again, one who drinks 
but little may find that he is paying at the rate of a dollar 
a glass for lemonade, while others are getting their drinks 
at even less than '* League rates." 

When the '* Porkopolis" Wheelmen organized, over 
two years ago, the following by-law was adopted : "There 

46 



shall be no ' treating ' between members while on a club 
run." 

While each member by this rule pays for what he 
consumes he is not prohibited from drinking as much or 
as often as he wishes, neither is there any inducement for 
him to drink more than he desires. At the same time it 
effectually prevents "sponging." 

Outsiders who did not understand its import greeted 
this rule with ridicule and much adverse criticism, but 
now after a trial of two years it is doubtful if a motion to 
repeal it would receive one vote. 

One noticeable result has been the small amount of 
drinking ; in fact some members have declared that since 
they have united with the club they have saved more than 
their monthly dues in drinks alone. 



A BICYCLE CLUB 

Is somewhat of an anomaly, as it is neither an athletic nor 
a social organization pure and simple, but is a combina- 
tion of both, and therein lies its weakness. Without 
social features there is nothing at the end of the riding 
season to hold the club together, whilst if this feature pre- 
dominates the cycles are apt to grow rusty from disuse. 
In this very feature, however,' there is a lurking evil, for 
unfortunately there are some individuals who can not con- 
ceive of a social gathering in which "John Barleycorn" 
does not participate. There are some such who have 
contracted, or rather expanded, the habit of drinking till 
their capacity has become unlimited. There are others 
who take in such quantities of "fire water" that their 
wheels become unmanagable, and to whom it might not 

47 



be safe to suggest the taking of such loads on the install- 
ment plan. The presence of such an element in a bicycle 
club may be all right to those who take pride in styling 
themselves " men of the world," and who sneeringly 
allude to those who thmk differently as " narrow-minded," 
but it is certainly not calculated to elevate or advance 
cycling to any great extent, for the interest of such per- 
sons in cycling is generally in an inverse ratio to their 
capacity for stimulants. 



"WHY DO PERSONS GIVE UP CYCLING 

If it is so enjoyable and beneficial?" is not infrequently 
asked of the cycling enthusiast, and he is forced to admit 
that strange as it may seem that some do actually abandon 
the wheel. 

Among those who grow weary of the sport is the 
would-be scorcher, who seems to be laboring under the 
delusion that he will be thought a novice unless he rides 
very far or very fast, and who in his anxiety to achieve 
notoriety in that direction tears along the road with his 
head down, and consequently sees as little of the scenery 
as though he were riding through a tunnel. He soon, 
however, reaches the limit beyond which he can not go, 
and then his enthusiasm subsides as rapidly as a spent 
rocket. 

Another is he who has worshiped at the shrine of 
Bacchus till his face has become as luminous as the Aurora 
Borealis. On his dull ears the music of the rippling 
stream, the song of the brown thrush and the cheerful 
notes of the robin fall unheeded. To his eyes, clouded 
by the mists of frequent potations, and to his intellect 

48 



blunted by tippling, the beauties of nature possess no at- 
traction. He measures the miles by the number of 
saloons, and sees no pleasure in a club run unless it is in 
the nature of a ''spree." He soon finds that in the city 
resorts he can get better liquor with less exertion, and it is 
not at all strange that his wheel should become covered 
with dust and festooned with cobwebs. 



TO RIDE AT THE TOP OF ONE S SPEED 

And only make stops for the purpose of swallowing stimu- 
lants is not the way to get either the greatest pleasure or 
the greatest benefit from the use of the wheel. The only 
time when their use is at all justifiable is when it is a case 
of get there at all hazards. The belief that they add 
strength to the rider is all a mistake, for he who resorts to 
them is simply making drafts on his store of vital energy 
which must be honored the following day. Cycling is a 
sport that requires a temperate life for its fullest enjoy- 
ment. It is utterly incompatible with dissipation of any 
kind whatsoever, and he who is leading the life that ends 
in an early grave soon finds that he must either reform or 
give up the wheel, while to him whose blood is free from 
alcohol and the virus of disease its proper use is not only 
a source of pleasure, but enables him to go about his 
business with a clear brain, invigorated muscles and every 
organ performing its functions in a healthy manner. 



49 



IN HEAVEN. 

** What kind of streets does heaven have ? " 

Said Johnny to his mother; 
" Say, are they hilly, rough, or smooth, 

And one just like another?" 

" They're paved with purest gold, my son. 
And level as a table ; 
They're smooth as polished glass, you'll find, 
If you'll but read the Bible." 

*' Then if I'm good as I can be, 
And die and go to heaven, 
Say, can I ride a golden wheel 
Upon those streets so even ? " 

*' Oh, no, my son, the people there 
Will spend their time in singing. 
And forevermore that blest abode 
With anthems will be ringing." 

' ' Well, if I go there when I die, 
And riding is forbidden, 
I'll ask the man who keeps the gate 
To let me out of heaven." 



50 



MEPHITIS. 

In 1889, when the president of the L. A. W. pro- 
posed to introduce simultaneously into the legislatures of 
eight different States, bills reforming the methods of mak- 
ing and keeping our highways, his plans were opposed by 
the writer on the ground that as the rural public were not 
sufficiently educated to appreciate the necessity of such 
measures, they would only result disastrously. In taking 
this stand he was severely criticised by several recent addi- 
tions to the L. A. W., who were captivated by the brill- 
iancy of the scheme, but the fulfillment of his predictions 
justified the stand taken and provoked the following : 

In reading the inaugural address of Governor Camp- 
bell, and failing to discover one word in regard to making 
and repairing our highways, I am reminded of the follow- 
ing old fable, which I have often, when a child, heard my 
mother relate : ^' Once upon a time the skunks assembled 
in the shadow of a great *Hill. One of their number, 
who was sleeker, plumper and more glossy than the rest, 
addressed them as follows : ' Fellow skunks, we have met 
here to devise means of diminishing the difficulties of ob- 
taining a livelihood. We must unite. We must let the 
other animals know that we have a very strong organiza- 
tion, and if they do not do as we desire we can make it 
very disagreeable for them. We must compel them to 
remove the briers that tear our fur, and to beat down for 
us paths to every rabbit burrow in the country.' The 
young skunks were loud in their applause of these wise 
remarks, and when one measly old fellow suggested that 
the other animals might not be so easily intimidated he was 
pounced upon and narrowly escaped with his life. The 
upshot of the whole matter was the appointing of a com- 
mittee to wait on the fCamel, and tell him what the 

51 



JBeaver had done, and insist on him doing likewise. 
When the committee arrived they found the fCamel sur- 
rounded by a band of hungry and clamorous wolves, and 
were unable either to get themselves noticed or to make 
themselves heard." The rest of this fable I have unfor- 
tunately forgotten. 

-'■Governor Hill, of New York. 
tGovernor Campbell, of Ohio. 
^Governor Beaver, of Pennsylvania. 



A MODERN KNIGHT. 

In books which are yellow and musty with age, 
We read of knights who were fearless and brave ; 

Who wore iron clothes and rode fiery steeds, 
And cut short the life of many a knave. 

This knight of ours was not one of those. 

His steed had four legs, yet 'twas fashioned from wood. 
He bestrode it at morn, dismounted at eve. 

Yet it never once stirr'd from the spot where it stood. 

His lance was a pen well poisoned with ink, 
Which he skillfully used with such fatal effect 

That his fame spread abroad, and wherever he went 
He was sure to be met with the greatest respect. 

Alas, for our knight ! His triumph was brief. 

For a legion of imps his weapon defied. 
Though he fought them with powders and queer little pills 

And every concoction he heard of was tried. 

He fought them in vain and began to despair. 
When some one suggested he try a new steed. 

He took the advice and purchased a wheel. 

And no longer's a prey to the pharmacist's greed. 

52 



AUTUMN. 

When autumn, with her shortening days, 

Proclaims the waning of the year, 
'Tis then the wheelman finds delight 

And vigor in the bracing air. 

To the wheelman whose muscles are in good condi- 
tion, and who is willing to rise early and ride slowly, long 
rides at this season of the year have many attractions. It 
may, it is true, require the exercise of considerable will 
power to enable him to leave the embrace of the drowsy 
god, but the pleasures in store for him more than compen- 
sate this act of self-denial. The dim light, the cool, brac- 
ing air, the silence that is soon broken by a choral from a 
thousand feathered throats, all tend to make him forget 
the drudgery of the past week. And then as it grows 
lighter the very trees seem to nod a welcome, the rosy- 
cheeked apples that peep through the foliage to wish him 
good morning, and every object along the route to bid him 
good speed. 



53 



THE STRIKE OF THE '' BHCE." 

Though science may teach, and experiment prove 

That pain is unknown to iron and steel, 
Yet a tale which I heard and will shortly relate 

Constrains me to think that at least they can feel. 

It concerns the fate of a weak-minded lad, 

Whose consuming desire was a record " to beat," 

Who liv'd on his wheel, and though urged by his friends 
'Twas seldom he'd leave it to sleep or to eat. 

He rode till even the wheels were tir'd, 

The down-trodden pedals complain'd of their lot, 

The many-link'd chain rebell'd at the strain 
And the bearings had grown exceedingly hot. 

When forbearance and patience had come to an end, 
They sought out some means to vent their dislike, 

And after discussing this plan and that 
They firmly resolved to go on a strike. 

He kept on his way and was nearing the goal. 

He flew like the wind and was bent o'er his work, 
For he had but a very few seconds to spare. 

When lo 1 his wheel was stopped with a jerk. 

He slid o'er the handles and lit on his head, 

His friends gather'd round to look at the wreck. 

The wrongs of the " bike " at last were avenged, 
For instead of the record he'd broken his neck. 



54 



THE PUMPERNICKEL BICYCLE CLUB. 

You never heard of the Pumpernickel Bicycle Club ? 
Why, that's very strange. 

Well, it all came about in this manner. You see 
there had been a great deal of asphalt pavement laid in 
different parts of the city, and all the old wheels, no mat- 
ter how rusty and forlorn looking, were dragged from the 
obscurity of dusty attics, and after being cleaned and pol- 
ished till they glistened anew, were given an airing before 
the admiring gaze of the multitude that crowded the side- 
walks. 

Not content, however, with simply riding up and 
down the street and exciting the admiration of the fair sex, 
some of the riders began to. attempt startling feats of 
daring. 

Moses Smashheimer electrified the populace by riding 
at full speed with Leonardi Sphagetti standing on the step 
and clinging to the tail of his coat. Patsy Flannigan 
roused their latent enthusiasm by ridmg with one foot on 
the step and the other on the pedal. But when the portly 
Augustus Limburger actually let go of the handles and 
folded his arms across his capacious bosom, the spectators 
could contain themselves no longer. Hats were thrown in 
the air, handkerchiefs were waved and the air was rent 
with shouts and cheers. 

It was just at this time that the gigantic intellect of 
Diedrich Rausmitem conceived the brilliant idea of form, 
ing a club, and as he was never known to let grass grow 
under his feet, he lost no time in imparting to his fellow 
wheelmen the nature of his scheme and the many ad- 
vantages thereof. 

55 



As a result of his glowing accounts, a dozen wheel- 
men congregated about the base of the fountain that very 
evening and organized the Pumpernickel Bicycle Club. 
The monthly dues were put at five cents, partly because 
they did not wish to put on too much style at first, but 
principally because very few of them earned more than 
three dollars a week. 

The following evening they held an election of officers 
and chose the dignified Limburger for President, with 
Rausmitem for Captain, Sphagetti for Secretary, Grab- 
heimer for Treasurer, and Smashheimer for Bugler, and 
then to prevent any dissatisfaction they made Lieutenants 
of all the rest. 

The club had been in existence for fully three weeks 
when they came to the unanimous conclusion that in order 
to be distinguished from the vulgar herd they must have a 
suitable uniform, and so after a heated discussion, during 
which the Secretary and Bugler almost came to blows, 
they adopted a coat and knee breeches of bottle green 
velveteen, with cap and stockings to match. 

The very first Sunday after receiving the new uni- 
forms they sallied forth to be greeted with admiring glances 
from the fair ones and to be complimented on the very 
appropriate color of their suits by those wheelmen who 
were not members of the club. Sunday after Sunday 
they rode up and down the street displaying their hand- 
some uniforms and shapely limbs to a never-decreasing 
throng of spectators. Tiring at length of the monotony 
of this parade they began to look about for new worlds 
to conquer. It was then that Rausmitem conceived 
another brilliant idea. He had read in a cycling paper 
that a certain club had taken a run and that it was the 
Captain's duty to call the run. 

56 



With him, to think was to act, and he forthwith an- 
nounced to the club that on the next Sunday they would 
assemble at the fountain at 7 a. m. and take a run to 

H . The idea of taking a run met with universal 

favor, but the destination did not suit them, and so they 

overruled the Captain and decided to go to B , which 

was in the opposite direction and forty miles away. It 
was their first run, and being very enthusiastic they would 
be satisfied with nothing less than eighty miles. 

They assembled at the appointed time and place. 
Smashheimer had borrowed a bugle for the occasion, and 
by its aid produced some of the most unearthly noises to 
which human ear had ever Hstened, and when the club 
started, with the Captain in the lead, he continued his 
diabolical performance, to the great annoyance of the late 
sleepers along the route. 

All went well till they reached the point where the 
asphalt pavement ended and the cobblestones began. Be- 
fore they had gone the distance of a block over the rough 
surface, Smashheimer's wheel swerved, threw him against 
the Captain and both came down with a crash, quickly 
followed by a half dozen others. All was confusion and 
commotion. Those who had not fallen dismounted at 
once and stood by their wheels while they called to the 
others to help extricate the unfortunate ones from the tan- 
gle. When the latter finally succeeded in separating 
themselves it was found that Smashheimer's handlebar was 
broken off close to the head and that Rausmitem's cloth- 
ing was plentifully besmeared with mud and filth. 

Seeing their captain's sorry plight they began with 
one accord to poke fun at him, and as he was in no very 
good humor at being overruled on the destination, it may 
be imagined that he did not take their raillery in very 

57 



good part. In fact, he began to talk back, which only- 
increased their merriment and in turn added to his ill 
humor. Retort followed rejoinder and Rausmitem was on 
the point of demonstrating his boasted ability to wipe up 
the earth with a half dozen of them when the President 
interfered and succeeded in restoring peace. Changing 
coats with Smashheimer, who was obliged to return on 
account of his broken wheel, Rausmitem again took the 
lead. 

The pace was necessarily slow and falls not infre- 
quent, but when they reached a comparatively smooth 
turnpike on the outskirts of the city they unconsciously be- 
gan riding faster and faster till the run degenerated into a 
road race. The hot pace soon began to tell, and several 
of them who had never ridden on anything but asphalt 
gradually dropped to the rear, and when the first hill was 
reached they were fully a mile behind the leader. They 
had become so scattered by this time that it was now every 
one for himself and the devil take the hindmost. Rausmitem, 
who would let no one pass him, maintained the lead and 

reached B at i o'clock in the afternoon. When 

Patsy Flannigan came in sight a half hour later it was to 
be greeted by bantering remarks by the Captain, to which 
he might have taken umbrage had he not been so thor- 
oughly exhausted that he had to be assisted in alighting 
from his wheel. Three others succeeded in straggling in 
before 3 o'clock, hardly able to propel their wheels. As 
for the rest, some had fallen by the wayside before half the 
distance had been covered, whilst others had lost their 
way and floundered along over sandy roads till their mus- 
cles, unaccustomed to the unusual strain, positively re- 
fused to contract and they were compelled to stop. The 
five who had succeeded in reaching B concluded, 

58 



after eating their dinner and finding how tired they were, 
to return by rail. The rest got back the best way they 
could, some by dint of alternate walking and riding, others 
by the opportune aid of market wagons on their way to 
the city. 

The initial run having been so disastrous and having 
made such inroads on their slender purses, it was all of a 
month before they could muster up sufficient courage to 
make a second attempt. This time, profiting by experi- 
ence, they selected a point only fifteen miles distant. 

They took an early start and made the usual gallant 
display as they rode through the city, but when they 
reached the outskirts they began to scatter as before. 
Rausmitem, who was first to reach the destination, took a 
fiendish delight in unmercifully twitting the others as they 
arrived, one at a time, all of which was well calculated to 
cultivate a feeling of harmony in the club. 

Although they were nearly ' ' tuckered out " from the 
long ride and stiff pace, they still had strength enough, on 
hearing the dinner bell, to rush for the dining, room like a 
pack of famished wolves. The very fierceness of their 
onset, however, prevented any of them gaining an en- 
trance, for those in advance became wedged in the door- 
way and could not get out on account of the pressure of 
those in the rear. They surged and pushed, crowded and 
squeezed, vociferated and trod on each other's toes all to 
no avail, and had not the stalwart landlord interfered and 
dragged them out one at a time they might still be strug- 
gling and fighting at that dining-room door. 

When they finally did get into the room the fierce 
onslaught they made on the table appalled even those who 
were accustomed to cater to the robust appetites of farm 
hands. Within less than three minutes they had trans- 

59 



ferred every edible on the table to their plates, for it was 
not often that they had paid as much as twenty-five cents 
for a single meal and they proposed to get the worth of 
their money. They devoured everything in sight, and 
ever since that day the landlord charges wheelmen fifty 
cents a head. 

The season was now growing late, and their meeting 
place, the base of the fountain, was not only damp and 
conducive to colds, but was altogether too well ventilated 
for comfort. This casued considerable murmuring, and 
the club was on the point of disruption, when some one 
suggested that they hire a room where they could have a 
fire to keep them warm. This proposition met with favor 
from some, but was strenuously opposed by others, who 
objected to paying any more dues than they were paying 
just to provide a loafing place for a few others. 

The opposition daily gained strength and the club- 
room scheme seemed doomed, when it was reported that 
some envious wheelmen not members of the club had 
dubbed them the Curbstone Club. That settled the whole 
matter. They would not rest under such a stigma a mo- 
ment. They at once raised the monthly dues to twenty- 
five cents and started the President and the Captain out 
to hunt for a suitable room. 

They finally secured one in the rear of a butcher shop 
for a monthly rental of three dollars, payable in advance. 
After they had cleaned up the room each member brought a 
chair, the butcher loaned them a table and the treasury 
was drawn upon to pay for a coal bucket and afire shovel. 
They then agreed to take turns in acting as janitor, and 
in that way dispense with the service and save the salary 
of that autocratic menial. 

Their first meeting in their clubroom was celebrated 

60 



by a lunch. They had wiener-wurst, pumpernickel and 
sauer-kraut galore, and it was the first really harmonious 
meeting they had held since their organization. 

A new difficulty now confronted them. The revenue 
from dues was barely sufficient to pay their rent, and as 
increasing the monthly dues was out of the question their 
only way out of the difficulty was to secure new members. 
From that time on every wheelman in town was be- 
sought to join the club. They were indefatigable in their 
efforts to secure recruits and gave their victims no peace 
till they secured their applications. The character of the 
recruits made no difference, so long as they were able to 
ride a wheel and pay the club dues. One could not take 
a ride of a half hour's duration without being repeatedly 
and persistently urged to join the club. As a result of 
this ceaseless effort they doubled their membership in a 
very short time. Their very prosperity, however, added 
to their troubles, for the increased membership brought 
a demand for better accommodations and increased 
expense. 

After much wrangling, and frequent and bitter dis- 
cussion, they raised their monthly dues to fifty cents, 
and secured an additional room from the butcher. In 
spite of the increased membership, however, they were 
not happy. The club was torn by dissensions. Several 
of those who were compelled to forbear smoking cigar- 
ettes, on account of the increase in dues, were loud in 
their criticism of the action of the club officials, and 
bitterly denounced the extravagant manner in which the 
affairs of the club were conducted. The bad feeling 
between the members continued to increase, and matters 
were rapidly going from bad to worse, when the gifted 
Rausmitem again came to their rescue with a brilliant 

idea. 

6i 



It was nothing else than holding a race meet, under 
the auspices of the club. In broaching the scheme, 
Rausmitem painted it in glowing colors, and showed them 
that, if properly managed, it would not only add to their 
glory, and make the name of the Pumpernickel Bicycle 
Club pre-eminent, but it would also be a money-making 
scheme. This latter feature turned the balance, and they 
unanimously resolved to give a race meet. 

All was harmony now with a large H. They went 
to work with a will ; they constituted themselves a mon- 
ster begging committee. They begged medals and prizes 
of all sorts. They got up an elaborate program, and 
made the lives of the merchants that they called on 
miserable till they agreed to take an advertisement. 

Everything, even to the music and the grounds, was 
donated. Then the tickets — each member took a stip- 
ulated number, which he agreed to sell or dispose of, 
and the way they pestered their friends was a caution. 

The appointed day came, and, fortunately, the weather 
left nothing to be desired. The racers came from all 
directions, for race-meets in those days were none too 
common. The handsome Limburger officiated as referee, 
while Rausmitem fired the pistol at the beginning of each 
race. All the rest of the club were there in some capacity 
or other, each resplendent in a clean shirt and a gor- 
geous badge. 

The fair sex, who filled the grand stand, were gen- 
erous in their applause, and when Patsy Flannigan 
handed out the medals and prizes at the end of each 
race he was cheered to the echo. The affair was a great 
success, and the name of the Pumpernickel Bicycle Club 
was, indeed, famous. What was of more importance, 
however, was the fact that, after all bills were paid, there 

62 



remained in the hands of the finance committee just three 
hundred and sixty-one dollars. 

Three hundred and sixty-one dollars'. Just think of 
it ! Why that was more than many of them could earn 
if they worked steadily for two whole years. It was a 
fabulous sum to some of them. What were they to do 
with it ? Some were in favor of abolishing the club dues 
and drawing on the treasury for the expenses of the club 
till the money was exhausted. Others proposed to rent 
a large house and furnish it elegantly, contending that 
if they did so they would get thousands of new members, 
who would rather come to the club and play billiards 
for nothing, than go to a saloon, where they would have 
to pay for each game. Others even suggested that the 
money be used as a nucleus of a fund for the building 
of a club-house, etc. 

Some of the more level-headed members called atten- 
tion to the fact that their money would not even buy 
carpets for such a place as they wanted, and asked where 
they expected to get the money to buy billiard tables 
and to pay the rent. They were howled down, however. 
They were old fogies. They had no ambition or enter- 
prise. They did not know enough to come in out of 
the rain. 

With such a large sum in the treasury, and each 
member advocating a different method of disposing of 
it, it may be naturally concluded that they were unable 
to settle on any one plan. Not only this, but they began 
to call each other names and cast reflections on their 
honesty. Each one seemed to think the others opposed 
his scheme because they wanted to get some of the money 
for their own use. After wrangling and fighting for sev- 



eral weeks over the disposition of the spoils, they finally 
decided to spend the whole sum on a large supper. 

They arranged with a caterer to set out a supper 
worthy of so prominent a club, and the caterer did his 
best. He gave them all the delicacies of the season, in- 
cluding twenty-five-cent cigars, ice cream, and drinks of 
all kinds and strengths. For a short time after they sat 
down to the tables they were harmonious, but when some 
of the strong drinks began to have an effect, they began 
to apply choice epithets and to pelt each other with pieces 
of bread, meat, and so forth, and, finally, they even threw 
dishes. 

The caterer at this point, fearing that his costly mir- 
rors and handsome furniture might be either injured or 
destroyed, quietly summoned a couple of patrol wagons, 
which swooped down on the belligerents and carried them 
to the stationhouse, where they were permitted to sleep 
off the effects of their debauch on the hard benches in 
the cells. 

The money having been exhausted and any amount 
of hard feeling having been engendered, the club was 
disbanded at the next meeting, and this was the sad end 
of the once promising Pumpernickel Bicycle Club. 



64 



''GOOD LORD, DELIVER US." 

From those who carry no oil for their wheels, 

Yet always bother us 
And dram our cans of the very last drop — 

" Good Lord, deliver us !" 

From those who ask to try our wheels, 

And then will anger us 
By riding full tilt over ruts and stones — 

" Good Lord, deliver us !" 



From those who ride the "only" wheel, 

And are wont to pester us 
By singing its praises for hours and hours — 

" Good Lord, deliver us !" 

From the potmetal wheel, though warranted steel, 

Is sure to break under us 
Just when we are miles and miles from home — 

'^ Good Lord, deliver us!" 

From these and a thousand kindred ills 

Which still hang over us 
And threaten to make us crabbed and cross — 

" Good Lord, deliver us!" 



65 



THE ENVIOUS SPIDER. 

If I'd tell where I've been, 
And the strange sights I've seen, 
You would open your eyes 
With the greatest surprise — 

Sang a gaunt grasshopper, as he swayed to and fro on the 
top of an iron weed. 

'' Humph!" snapped a rusty-looking spider from be- 
neath a plantain leaf, " I doubt it." 

" You do, eh ?" retorted the grasshopper. " Perhaps 
you have seen a man flying along on two wheels ?" 

"No, nor has anybody else," sneered the spider. 

"Well, I have," simpered a gaudy butterfly from the 
top of a thistle, "and it gave me such a turn, for as he 
was admiring my wings the front wheel struck a stone, 
and, oh my, I thought I should die—" 

" It's a pity you didn't, you silly thing," said the 
spider. " It would take stronger evidence than yours to 
make me believe it." 

"Well, old vinegar face," buzzed a big blue-bottle 
fly, "you needn't be so spiteful about it." 

"What!" screamed the spider, making a spring at 
the fly. " I'll teach — " but before she could either finish 
the sentence or get out of the way her life was crushed 
out by the wheels of one of the very machines whose 
existence she had doubted. 



66 



THE GIFT OF THE GODS. 

The Gods and Goddesses all one day, 

From Jupiter down to Pan, 
Concluded 'twas time for them to make 

An appropriate gift to man. 

But when they came to decide on the gift 

They were all quite badly at sea, 
For one wanted this and another that, 

And on none could they all agree. 

It began to look like unfortunate man 

The gift most surely would lose, 
For the more they argued, disputed and plead. 

The less they were able to choose. 

But Jove at length grew tired of the din 

And spoke to Vulcan, his son, 
Whom he told to fashion for man a wheel 

That needed no power to run. 

Now, Vulcan was bilious and mean to boot, 

And completely soured on man. 
So he vow'd, when he started to make the machine, 

He would frustrate his father's plan. 

Then he wrought a machine with graceful lines, 

Which the looker-on misled. 
But he filled it with friction and bath'd it in sweat, 

And made it as heavy as lead. 

And now, when a rider strains every nerve 

To propel his machine up a grade. 
This vicious old fellow goes wild with delight 

O'er the trouble for man he has made. 

67 



THE SPINNING-WHEEL. 

The spinning-wheel our mothers plied 

And fed with wool and flax, 
No more will gentler sex enslave 

Or patient fingers tax ; 
For since it's been "transmogrified" 

It hastes, at her behest, 
To carry her through rural scenes 

And add to life a zest. 



OUT OF WIND. 

When I learn'd to ride a wheel 

I often was chagrin'd 
To find, before I'd ridden far, 

That I was out of wind. 

I therefore bought a brand new wheel, 

With tires that you inflate. 
And hoped this trouble to avoid — 

But such was not my fate. 

A piece of wire ran in that tire 
On which my faith I'd pinn'd, 

And again I found I could not ride 
Because I was out of wind. 



THE RECKLESS COASTER. 

With faith in his luck, without bound, 
No coast too steep could be found; 
But he struck a cart end 
As he swept 'round a bend, 

And his spirit leap'd out through the wound. 
68 



''THERE'S MANY A SLIP," etc. 

At " head work " he was quite an adept; 

He knew all the tricks of the track, 
From ankle motion to final spurt, 

Did this wonderful racing crack. 

They could not pocket him, he said. 

For he always rode very wide ; 
But the man who won, like the Levite of old. 

Passed by on the other side. 



A SPRING POEM. 

Spring, spring, of well temper'd steel. 
Absorbing the jolts that we'd painfully feel, 
Of chanting thy praises we never shall tire, 
Thou gentle hand-maid of the pneumatic tire. 

A source of pleasure for age and for youth, 

A boon for man and woman, forsooth. 

Our mem'ry shall cling as long as we live 

To the freedom from jar that thy advent didst give. 



AN EPITAPH. 

When Death puts forth his clammy hand 

And claims me for his own, 
Pray dig my grave in a quiet spot 

And o'er it place a stone. 
Engrave thereon a winged wheel, 

And then, beneath, inscribe : 
* He loved the wheel, and never tir'd 

It's pleasures to describe." 

69 



glntr CDtlj^re. 



4clA. 



THAT CHESTNUT STORY. 

A TALE OF WOE IN SIX CANTOS, WITH A MORAL. 

CANTO I. 

A dark-eyed maiden, so blithe and gay, 

Receiv'd, on the morn of her last birthday, 

A pasteboard box that was long and slim. 

On seeing its shape, she said with a vim. 

While her deft little fingers the knots undid 

In her eager haste to open the lid, 

" Haven't I told them, time and again, 

That I didn't want an old gold pen 1" 

Under that lid— jerked off in a trice— 

Cover'd with cotton, so soft and nice. 

Nestling together as close and snug 

As certain fam'd bugs that were found in a rug, 

Were — nothing alive, I'd have you know — 

But chestnuts five, all rang'd in a row. 

Quickly she spoke: "Who can it be 

But that mean old thing, G. W. P. ! ! ! 

I'll give him a beating he'll never iorget; 

I'll do it, too, without a regret; 

And feeling the weight of my little fist. 

He will think he has rous'd up an anarchist." 

73 



CANTO II. 

Now, G. W. P., with wide open eyes, 

Looked up from the floor, in the greatest surprise, 

And begg'd that she would her conduct explain, 

And from further punishment quickly refrain. 

She impatiently spoke of the chestnuts five ; 

But he protested — more dead than alive — 

She was laboring under a serious mistake, 

And on some one else her vengeance must take. 

*' Your cousin, John, I believe is the one. 

For he is ever so ready for fun. 

And I will aid you to scour this town, 

And — when he is found — to do him up brown." 

CANTO III. 

In a corner stands Johnny, in sore dismay. 

So fiU'd with surprise scarce a word he can say ; 

Aw'd by the flash of her brilliant dark eyes, 

To find his lost voice he painfully tries ; 

But when he does speak, 'tis to strongly deny 

That such a mean trick he ever would try, 

And said that he felt in all of his bones 

It could be no other than Christopher Jones. 

CANTO IV. 

With Jack on his feet, and George on his head. 
She made poor Christopher wish he was dead. 
For while they held him full length on the floor 
She pounded him till she could pound him no more; 
And when at length, from exhaustion, she ceas'd. 
And Jack and George his person releas'd, 

74 



Poor Christy, with clothing all crumpled and rent, 

Meekly inquired what all this meant. 

Then, with bright, flashing eyes and a rosy face, 

She told him right there, before his face, 

Of the chestnuts five, which he had sent, 

But he stoutly declared he was innocent. 

CANTO V. 

At this the maiden, sore perplex'd, 

And, perhaps, I might say, the least bit vex'd, 

Sought out the box with earnestness, 

And, patiently studying its address. 

Exclaimed aloud : '' I do declare. 

It's from the girl with the bobtail hair !" 

CANTO VI. 

She lately had cut from a newspaper page 
A peculiar rhyme, in a style now the rage. 
That, by means of comparisons very unfair, 
Made sport of the girl with the bobtail hair. 
This she sent to a friend, who look'd so forlorn, 
Because her rich tresses had lately been shorn. 
'Twas the fifth she'd received in regard to her locks. 
So the chestnuts five she put in a box. 
And sent them by mail, without, by the way, 
Ever once dreaming that 'twas her birthday. 

MORAL. 
There is none. 



75 



DUDELSACK VS. DOOLITTLE. 

On a dirt road that leads off from one of the turn- 
pkes radiating from the city of Cincinnati is the Dudel- 
sack homestead. 

The house, whose front is guarded by a gigantic old 
pear tree that spreads out its branches as if to ward off the 
fierce northern storms, is a large, oddly-shaped building 
whose windows, no two of a size, and doors of different 
heights, remind one of nothing so much as of a man 
dressed in ready-made clothing, no two pieces of which 
have been bought at the same time or place. 

Farther along the road, in a house neither so large 
nor so odd looking, is the home of Abner Doolittle. 

In this out-of-the-way neighborhood there existed one 
of those organizations, indigenous to ^mall villages, called 
a literary society. The exact date of its founding no one 
seemed to know, but all agreed that it was at some very 
remote period, and that after flourishing for a time it had 
sickened and apparently died, but had revived on the 
coming of a more propitious season, and gave promise of 
a more vigorous growth, only to disappoint the hopes of its 
friends and again become torpid. Fluctuating thus be- 
tween the two extremes, it had maintained a precarious 
existence till the previous autumn, when it had been 
resuscitated, rechristened, and provided with a new con- 
stitution strong enough for a country of even greater size 
than the United States. 

Each of its eleven members was peculiarly fortunate, 
for in holding one or more of its fifteen offices they were 

76 



enjoying to the fullest extent the greatest prerogative of an 
American citizen. 

The society had flourished for four whole months, 
and now, on this first Thursday of the new year, it had 
met at the home of the Dudelsacks. 

Its president had recited " Horatius at the Bridge" 
with telling effect. Susan Dudelsack had performed the 
" Blue Danube " on the piano, with impromptu variations. 
Gottlieb Greenschnable had sung a comic song to an ac- 
companiment played by Arabella Stites. Philip Henry 
Dudelsack and Ebenezer Doohttle had rendered the scene 
between Brutus and Cassius with a fervor never before 
equaled by even the most celebrated actors. Miss Tillie 
Gump had read an elaborate essay on the duties of 
woman, and each of the others had creditably performed 
the parts assigned to them in the programme, when the 
dignified president announced that the time had now 
arrived when they were to elect a new set of officers. 

This, indeed, was no trifling matter. The importance 
of the result necessitated the taking of unusual precau- 
tions. Two tellers were appointed to collect and count 
the eleven ballots. Their every action was scrutinized in 
order to see that there was no fraudulent voting. When 
each had voted, and the result for president ascertained, it 
was duly announced by the secretary. Miss Tillie Gump, 
as follows: GottHeb Greenschnable, one vote; Shadrach 
Doolittle, three votes; Philip Henry Dudelsack, five 
votes ; blank two. Dr. Philip Henry Dudelsack was, there- 
fore, declared elected president of the Literary 

Society for the ensuing term of three months, and a com- 
mittee of two was appointed to conduct him to the chair 
a distance of three and a half feet. 

Covered with confusion at this great and unexpected 
honor, the newly-elected president arose, cleared his 

77 



throat several times, fixed his eyes first on the table, then 
on a crack in the ceiling, and finally on a figure on the 
wall paper directly in front of him, and then launched 
out into a speech, in which he expressed gratitude for the 
honor conferred upon him and promised to discharge the 
duties of the office to the best of his ability, winding up 
with the remark: "That, whilst I am satisfied that there 
are others here that are far better qualified than I am, 
still, 1 believe that I can do much better than my immedi- 
ate predecessor has done." 

Fatal words ! Though spoken in a spirit of levity, they 
were destined to sow dissension in the ranks of that unfor- 
tunate society and destroy the peace of the whole com- 
munity. For, piercing the little soul of Shadrach Doo- 
little, they stirred up all the spite and rancor in his narrow 
nature, and when at the next meeting he delivered his 
parting address he denounced his conceited successor in 
the most bitter terms. 

To sit there and hear himself stigmatized as conceited, 
presumptuous, empty headed, etc., and to know that 
Arabella Stites, Tillie Gump and Fanny Winn were listen- 
ing to those slanderous words, was almost more than 
Philip Henry could bear. His feelings were wrought up 
to such a pitch that, like a slumbering volcano, they 
threatened to burst forth at any moment and overwhelm 
his traducer; but, fortunately for Shadrach, the dignity of 
Philip's position forced him to repress his indignation and 
bear the insult in silence. 

On the adjournment of the society the young ladies 
went upstairs to don their wraps. There was then a gen- 
eral outburst of feeling. 

" It's a downright shame for that gawky old Shad 
Doolittle to talk like that ! " exclaimed Tillie Gump. "I'd 
a knocked him down, if I'd a been Phil." 

78 



''He served Phil just right!" interrupted Fanny 
Winn. " What business had he to say what he did, any- 
how?" 

" Well, he was just in fun, and if Shad wasn't such a 

conceited fool, he'd a taken it that way, and not a made 

such a holy show of himself as he did to-night. I don't 

intend to speak to the mean old thing again as long as I 

live." 

" Well, you can do just as you please, Tillie Gump, 

but I haven't any use for that stuck-up peacock, Phil 

Dudelsack; have you. Miss Stites? " 

"Oh, you needn't ask her; everybody knows she's 
sweet on Shad." 

Stung to the quick by Shadrach's spiteful thrusts, and 
all the resentment in his fiery nature aroused, Philip spent 
several days in vainly seeking some vulnerable point where 
Shadrach might be successfully attacked, and when he 
had about given up all hope, a fortunate accident revealed 
a weak place which he believed would enable him to be 
surely and speedily revenged. 

He had been to the blacksmith shop of Mr. Gump 
and was leisurely returning. His way led past the school 
which had been dismissed just as he reached it. As he 
bowed to the teacher, Arabella, something in her pleasant 
smile prompted him to wait for her till she reached the 
road. The path leading up to Doolittle's was rough and 
steep, and now that it was covered with snow and ice 
was well-nigh impassable; so they went farther up the 
road and, climbing over a low place in the fence, started 
up through the long meadow that was commanded by the 
windows of the Dudelsack homestead. As they trudged 
along over the slippery ground, his strong arm supporting 
her whenever they came to a difficult place, and even after 
all such places had been passed, she incidently remarked 

79 



that Shadrach was studying for a teacher's certificate, with 
the intention of applying for the place now occupied by 
Mr. Johnston, whose term would expire in June. 

When he left her at Doolittle's gate, he went straight 
to the barn, where he pranced back and forth shaking his 
fist at various objects and muttering to himself: " Nice 
scheme — very nice, indeed — get the school — court all 
day — maybe he will — I'll fix him," etc. 

In perfecting his plans he lingered about the barn till 
he was called to supper. 

Noticing his preoccupied manner as he sat down to 
the table, his mother asked : " Why, Philip, what are you 
studying about ? " 

"Oh, about Arabella Stites," volunteered Polly Ann 
in that irritating tone of voice peculiar to her. 

" How do you know what I am thinking about?" 

''Oh, maybe I didn't see her coming up through 
Doolittle's meadow this afternoon, and maybe I didn't see 
some one's arm around her as they poked along; oh no, 
maybe I didn't." 

"Well, what if you did?"^ 

"Oh, nothing, only I wouldn't try to cut Shad out 
if I were you." 

* * Who's trying to cut him out ? " 

"Oh, nobody, of course; it didn't look that way, 
did it?" 

" Well, suppose it did, what then ? " 

"Oh nothing, only I think you'd better see your way 
clear to making a living before you think of cutting any- 
one out " 

" Well, you are a nice one to give that kind of advice, 
when you and your squalling brats have to sponge off of 
mother half of the time, because old Blodgett can't make a 
living for you." 

80 



'' Now, look here, Philip Henry ! If mother asks me 
to come here and help her, what business is it of yours?" 

"Help her? Well, that's rich! It looks like help- 
ing her, doesn't it, when she has to be up night after night 
till after midnight, trying to get one or the other of your 
howling brats to go to sleep. I don't want any of that 
kind of help in mine, I assure you." 

" Mother I " exclaimed Polly Ann, bursting into tears, 
"I never thought when you asked me to come out here 
that I was to be insulted by that great big overgrown 
thing ! " 

"That'll do, Philip," interposed the mother. ''I 
don't want to hear any more of that kind of talk ; not an- 
other word." 

" Well, then let her keep her oar out of my affairs." 

To prevent the recurrence of these little pleasantries 
and to avoid his mother's displeasure, Philip, from ihis 
time on, ate his meals in silence, and spent his leisure 
moments either in the barn or locked up in his room, 
where" almost every night he could be heard pacing to and 
fro till quite a late hour. 

This condition of affairs had continued for a week or 
more, when one evening, as the mother and the two 
daughters were gathered about the stove in the sitting- 
room, Polly Ann said : 

"Ma, I think Phil must be up to something, for he 
looks awful serious, and you know how little he eats, and 
how close he keeps to his room. As I passed his door 
last night I heard him saying over and over to himself, 
' common and uncommon, proper and improper.' I 
haven't the least idea what he meant. And then, this 
morning as Susan was sitting in the covered carriage in 
the barn, she saw him shaking his fist at the door and 
muttering something about getting even with him. I sup- 

8i 



pose he meant Shad; and I think, ma, you ought to 
speak to him." 

''If you wouldn't aggravate him, Polly, he'd be all 
right." 

"Me aggravate him!" exclaimed Polly, with an in- 
jured air ; " you wouldn't say that if you only had heard 
all the tantalizing things he's said to me." 

"What did he say?" 

"I don't wish to repeat them, ma," replied Polly 
Ann, with a look that left the impression that though she 
was a very much abused person, she was altogether too 
kind hearted to retaliate. 

In spite of the frequent importunities of Polly Ann, 
his mother refused to remonstrate with him, and he con- 
tinued to keep up those mysterious mutterings in his room 
and to perform his daily pantomime in the barn to an 
audience of one in the covered carriage. 

On going after the mail one morning, Philip found in 
his box a letter addressed in a strange hand. After crit- 
ically examining the envelope for several moments, he 
opened it and drew forth one of those works of art — a 
comic valentine. 

When he saw the villainous picture and read the vile 
rhymes attached, his face looked like he was suffering 
from an acute attack of erysipelas. 

Crumpling the missive in his hand and thrusting it 
into his pocket, he impatiently mounted his horse, which, 
accustomed to leisurely saunter home whilst his rider 
perused the daily paper, was considerably surprised at be- 
ing continually urged into a gallop by repeated cuts of a 
switch, and even as he was being put into the stall he 
watched Philip over his shoulder, apparently amazed at his 
unusual conduct and sulphurous language. 

Leaving the barn he entered the house and went to 
82 



his room. When he reappeared a few minutes later with 
a shotgun on his shoulder, his faithful dog bounded for joy, 
but when he discharged both barrels in the air without 
any game being in sight, the dog squatted down and 
looked up into Philip's face with a perplexed air; and, as 
he saw him reload the gun with a double quantity of the 
largest-sized shot, his rapidly vibrating tail ceased to wag 
and lay motionless on the ground. 

With the heavily charged piece on his shoulder, 
Philip stalked moodily out of the yard and down the road, 
followed by the dog, and from the slinking gait of the lat- 
ter he was evidently aware that mischief was brewing 
and was heartily ashamed of the part he was taking. 

Abner Doolittle had just come down to his front gate 
as the pair reached it, and giving them an inquiring look, 
he said : 

" Good morning, Phil. Want to see Shad?" 

''Yes." 

" Well, he went to town early this morning to get ex- 
amined, and may not be back till late. Did you want 
anything particular ? " 

" No I " abruptly said Phihp, as he turned and left. 

Followed by Doolittle's inquisitive eyes, they went 
on down the road till a bend hid them from view, when 
they took a short cut through a stone quarry and the 
woods beyond to the meadow in the rear of the barn. 
Once more at home Philip put away his gun and busied 
himself in performing several chores, which in his excite- 
ment were forgotten. 

Nothing further occurred until the next Friday after- 
noon when, as he was returning from the blacksmith shop, 
Philip again accidentally reached the school just as it was 
"being dismissed, and, of course, accompanied Arabella 
home. This time, however, they took the steep and 

«3 



slippery path instead of the meadow, for, while taking 
them out of the range of Polly Ann's vision, it also en- 
abled him to extend a helping hand rather oftener than 
the other would have done. As they sauntered slowly 
along, Philip unconcernedly asked : 

" How did Shad get along with his examination?" 

" Oh, all right. He has his certificate and expects to 
get the school, for his father expects to be re-elected, and 
as he has the promise of Mr. Van Duzen's vote, he's 
pretty certain to get it." 

" I hope he may," sneered Philip, under his breath, 
and immediately changed the subject. 

When he vented his feelings in the barn that evening 
one would have thought from his actions that he was in 
training for a baseball match, a prize fight or some other 
equally sanguinary contest. Even his pet coon, alarmed 
at his wild gesticulations and startled at the upsetting of a 
barrel of grain, scampered down stairs and took refuge 
under a manger. During this pantomime he was contin- 
ually muttering: "Confound it — got his certificate, did 
he— will get the school, will he— dead sure of it, is he — 
well, may be he will — old Doolittle be re-elected, will 
he — I'll see about it." 

The next afternoon found Philip in the shop of Mr. 
Gump, who in a small way was the political "boss" of 
the neighborhood. 

With his foot resting on one corner of the forge, he 
had been watching the hammering of a glowing piece of 
iron, and now that it had been returned to the fire and 
Mr. Gump had resumed his place at the bellows handle, 
Philip asked : 

" I wonder where Mr. Johnston will teach next year ?" 

'* Why, is he going to leave?" 

84 



" Why, I thought it was understood that Shad Doo- 
little was to have the place." 

" You did, eh ; who told you ? " 

" Why, old Doolittle feels sure of being re-elected, 
and says Van Duzen has promised to vote for Shad, and I 
suppose you will also." 

" Well, maybe he'll be re-elected, and maybe he 
won't," said Gump, with a peculiar twinkle in his eye. 

*' Why, who intends to run against him ? " 

"Well, it might be Mr. Winn, and then again it 
mightn't." 

'' Is he likely to vote for Shad ? " 

'' Now, see here, Phil, are you very anxious for him 
to get the school ? " 

" Well, no, not very." 

" Well, you do all you can for Winn and Shad'll not 

get it." 

From the number of long and confidential conversa- 
tions held during the next week with several doubtful 
voters, it was evident that Philip was seeing about it with 
a vengeance. 

Now, Polly Ann, whose bilious disposition had been 
stirred up by her brother's caustic remarks, had resolved 
to oppose him in any and all schemes, and it is, therefore, 
not at all strange that these mysterious visits did not escape 
her watchful eyes, and that her surmises as to their prob- 
able cause were tolerably correct; nor is it surprising that 
-in her desire to circumvent him she should go to these 
same voters and endeavor to counteract what he had said, 
and that on the Sunday before the election she should 
have her submissive husband running his rheumatic legs 
off on the same errand. 

At the appointed hour on the next Monday an 
earnest little group of citizens assembled at the district 

85 



school house, and at the exact moment prescnbed by law 
proceeded to discharge the solemn duty of electing a 
school director, by first selecting a judge and clerk of 
election. The choice, by no means unanimous, fell on 
Philip Henry Dudelsack and Dominicus Goodfellow 
respectively. 

When the election officers had taken their places and 
the ballot box. an empty cigar box, had been opened 
and held up to view to prove that it was empty, the voting 
commenced. As each of the assembled citizens — con- 
scious of his own honesty and integrity, yet doubtful of 
that of his neighbor — felt it incumbent upon himself to 
see that the purity of the ballot was maintained, the course 
of each ballot as it traveled from the voters hand to the 
slit in the box was followed by the eyes of all. 

When they gathered around the election officers at 
the close of the polls to witness the counting of the bal- 
lots, each was satisfied that, no matter what the result of 
the election might be. the election had been fair and 
honest. Yet few, however, were prepared for the actual 
resuit; for when the last vote had been counted, it was 
found that Abner Doolittle had received nineteen and 
Theophilus Winn thirty-four votes. This, when a major- 
ity of five was considered large, was looked upon as an 
overwhelming defeat for Abner Doolittle. 

When the news of the result spread through the 
neighborhood, it stirred up a tremendous commotion. The 
commimity was rent into two factions that, from denounc- 
ing the principals in the afiiair. soon fell to ^-illifying each 
other. The defeated candidate, who said he had not 
wanted the office and had only consented to run at the 
earnest solicitation of some of his neighbors, was loud in 
his denunciation of Philip as the cause of his downfall. 

The literary society, as may be expected, did not 
So 



escape the general infection. The next meeting was held 
on the nig^ht of the election, and was stormy indeed. 
Each of the members taking sides on the question, the 
feeling ran so high that the exercises set down in the pro- 
gramme were postponed, and the society went mto the 
election of officers, the result for president being as fol- 
lows • Philip Henry Dudelsack, one; Gottlieb Green- 
schnable, three; Shadrach Doolittle, one; Ballot-box 
Stuffer, one: Wire Puller, one; Fraud, one; Boodle 
Gan?, one; and scattering, one. 



II. 



From the clouds that lowered upon the brows ot the 
DooUttle household as they took their accustomed places 
at the breakfast table on the morning after the election 
for school director, it was very evident that stormy 
weather would soon prevail. As Abner asked a stereo- 
tvped blessina over a plate of fried bacon, his face was 
particularly gloomy; that of his wife was no brighter, and 
the malicious gleam that occasionally lit up the anything 
but handsome face of Shadrach, like the lightnmg play- 
ing about the approaching storm, was ominous mdeed. 

The calm followmg the conclusion of Abner s devo- 
tions was of short duration, for Deborah had barely 
ceased pouring out the coffee when she turned to Shad- 
rach and said : 

- Son, I don-t want you to have anythmg more to do 

with that sneaking Phil Dudelsack, as there is no telling 

what he might take a notion to do.'' ^ 

^' Pooh : Do you think I'm afraid of that coward . ' 

S7 



" You can't be too careful, son, for 'Mandy Dingfel- 
ter says he always carries a knife and two pistols with 
him." 

" Well, he can't scare me with his knife and pistols, 
and I intend to get even with him ; you see if I don't." 

" Son ! " interrupted the father, " I don't want you to 
get mixed up in any dispute with him, for he'll get his just 
deserts soon enough. If he keeps on acting as he did at 
the election, it won't be long till he'll lard in the peniten- 
tiary." 

'' Why, what did he do at the election?" innocently 
asked Arabella. 

" Why, enough to land him in jail, if I were a mind 
to prosecute him." 

"In jail I Why, did you see hmi do anything?" 
queried Arabella, who did not now hesitate to take sides, 
believing as she did that she had nothing further lo fear 
from Abner Doolittle's political influence. 

" He didn't have to see it," interrupted Shadrach. 
" Who ever heard of such a one-sided election in this 
precinct ? Why, twenty-six different persons told me that 
they had voted for pap, but when the votes were counted 
he only had nineteen ! Why, a blind man could see that 
dirty work had been done ; and who else could have done 
it but that miserable, low-lived sneak across the way? 
You mark my word, I'll make him pay dearly for it before 
a year rolls around." 

" You must surely be mistaken, for though he is a 
little hotheaded, I hardly believe he would be guilty of 
what you accuse him." 

"You impudent hussy! " exclaimed Deborah, with 
flashing eyes. " How dare you sit there and take the 
part of that sneak, who does everything he can to humil- 
iate my son?" 



"If your son could have perceived that what Dr. 
Dudelsack said was only intended to be taken in fun, he 
need not have been humiliated," replied Arabella, undis- 
mayed by Deborah's belligerent attitude. 

''Well, I don't propose to let anybody insult me and 
then say it was only in fun," said Shadrach, bringing his 
fist down on the table with a bang that made the dishes 

dance. 

" That's right, my son ! " exclaimed the father, for- 
getting in his excitement the cautious advice he had given 
but a moment before. " I glory in your spunk ! " 

"Now, pap, you hadn't ought to egg him on that way. 
You know you don't want to have him dirty his hands 
with that lying, sneaking, thieving — " 

"Your remarks," interrupted Arabella, "are en- 
tirely—" 

' ' What ! You little hussy ! " shrieked Deborah, turn- 
ing on the school teacher. " You must be setting your 
cap for that sneak the way you stand up for him, and I 
want you to understand, right now, that the sooner you 
pack up your traps and get out of here the better." 

" I'm not at all anxious to remain, I assure — " 

" Will you defy me, you — " 

"There now, ma, don't allow yourself to get excited," 
interposed Shad. "You know you are apt to have an- 
other spell " 

" Spell ! I don't care if J have forty spells. I don't 
propose to have a sassy school teacher talk that way to 
me ! " 

" Now, ma," repeated Shad. 

" Don't talk to me. You don't care anything forme, 
or you wouldn't sit there and hear me insulted by that im- 
pudent little — little— little spitfire ! " 

There is no knowing what might have been the re- 



suit of Deborah's frenzy, had not Arabella at this juncture 
quietly left the room. As it was, however, she did not 
escape a spell, and there was soon great hurrying and 
scurrying on .the part of Abner and his two sons to get the 
camphor bottle and the valerian mixture. 

When Arabella left the table she repaired to her 
room, where she immediately began to pack all of her be- 
longings in her trunk. This done she donned her wraps 
and, leaving the house by the front door, started on her 
way to school. 

She had gone but a short distance and was picking 
her way carefully along the slippery path when, as she 
passed a hay stack, she was confronted by the angular 
Shadrach. 

Without appearing to notice him, she was about to 
proceed on her way when he blurted out : 

" I say, Miss Stites, you mustn't mind what ma says." 

u Why?" 

'' Why, 'cause I want you and she to be good friends." 

''It is a matter of indifference to me what your 
mother's feelings are." 

" But it isn't to me." 

''Why?" 

"Well, just this. I've been waiting till I got a 
school before I said anything. I expect to get a school 
soon, and then I— then I— expect to get married," said 
Shadrach, as he moved about uneasily. 

"Well, what has that to do with your mother and 

me?" 

"Well, you see, it would be kind of unpleasant to 

marry a girl that ma didn't like." 

" Yes, I suppose it would." 

"Well, then, I want you and ma to make up, for we 
will want to live at home for a while." 

90 



" I don't see what your mother's feelings toward me 
have to do with you and your wife living at home." 

*'You don't?" said Shadrach, with some surprise. 
*' Why, it's you I want to marry." 

" Oh, indeed I You are getting very humorous all of 
a sudden." 

" No, I am in dead earnest." 

''Oh, but you are. I never suspected that you could 
be so humorous. Instead of trying to get a school, you 
ought to write for the comic papers." 

" Are you making fun of me ? " 

* * Why, by no means ! " 

''Well, why don't you give me an answer?" impa- 
tiently asked Shadrach, growing red in the face. 

" You really do not know how funny you are. If you 
would only write for the comic papers, you would at once 
become famous. There are so few real humorists that 
there is a large field open. The majority of readers, you 
know, prefer the humorous and comic to the serious and 
tragic." 

" Well, you know I—" 

" Of course, I know that you are modest, like all 
great men, but then if you will only make the attempt 
success will be assured." 

" But that isn't what I — " 

" Of course, I know that geniuses do not always 
appreciate their talents, and that they aspire to some- 
thing for which they have no particular bent," said 
Arabella, talking so rapidly that Shadrach could hardly 
get a word in edgeways. "There is Dore, for instance, 
who had no peer as an illustrator of books, and yet who 
was exceedingly anxious to become a great landscape 
painter." 

"Now, look here! I'm not trifling," exclaimed 
91 



Shadrach, whose temperature was rapidly approaching the 
boiling point. 

"No, no; certainly not. But you really do not ap- 
preciate your talent for rich and irresistible humor. You 
ought to lose no time in getting started. But I must 
hurry on to school, as it is getting late. Tell your ma 
that I will send for my trunk and will not again annoy her 
with my presence." 

With that she sprang past him and hurried on her 
way, leaving him to mutter and grind his teeth in impotent 
rage. 

She did not slacken her pace till she reached the low 
place in the fence separating the field from the road, and 
did not stop to catch her breath till she was safe in the 

road. 

She had hardly begun to breathe naturally when she 
heard some one approaching, and as she apprehensively 
turned to see who it was, she saw Philip coming down the 
road, with a valise in one hand and an umbrella in the 
other. 

As he came to where she stood and saw her flushed 
face, he said something about her being in an unusual 
hurry to get to school, especially as there was plenty of 
time to spare. 

"Oh," said she, 'T thought it was late." And then, 
as she noticed the valise, she paled somewhat as she 
asked: " Are you going to leave us? " 

" Yes; I am now on my way to the city, and I will 
leave for Chicago this evening." 

" To Chicago ?" said Arabella, growing still paler. 

'' Yes. An old schoolmate of mine has been prac- 
ticing there for several years, but his health has failed and 
he has asked me to take charge of his practice while he 
goes to California to recuperate." 

92 



"Does he expect to be gone long? " 
'' Probably a year." 

" Then you have given up the idea of resuming prac- 
tice in the city ? " 

"Yes ; I want to get away from here. I begin to see 
that in the part I have taken m the events of the past few 
months, that I have made an ass and a laughing-stock of 
myself, and I want to go some place where I will not be 
subjected to the ridicule of certain people." 

' ' You put entirely too much stress on what has re- 
cently happened. You are too easily discouraged.. You 
have friends here, and warm ones at that." 

"Where are they ? I don't believe there is any one 
here who cares whether I stay or go." 

" Oh, you are certainly mistaken. You take an alto- 
gether too gloomy a view of the situation." 

"No, I think not. I must be going, as I have sev- 
eral matters to arrange which will keep me busy all day. 
I hope, however, that as I am probably leaving this local- 
ity for good, that I do not carry your ill will with me." 

" My ill will ? Why should I cherish any ill will to- 
ward you?" said Arabella, with illy-disguised surprise. 

" Why, you know, it is said that I was instrumental 
in securing Abner Doolittle's defeat." 

"Yes." 

"And thereby destroyed Shadrach's prospects of 

getting the school." 

"Yes." 

" Well, I thought that you might cherish some resent- 
ment at my — " 

" On the contrary, I am very thankful indeed that he 

did not get it ! " 

"Why, I thought—" 
"What?" 

93 



*' That you were very much interested in — in — " 

" Shadrach Doolittle ? " 

"Yes." 

" What made you think so ? " 

" Why, that's what I've heard reported." 

'' The reports were without any foundation whatever. 
I have not the slightest interest in the Doolittle family ; in 
fact, I have left their house for good." 

"Indeed!" said Philip, surprised in turn. "Why, 
how was that ? " 

"His mother called me some very hard names when 
I took your part at the breakfast table this morning." 

" Then I have at least one friend," said Philip, as he 
eyed her intently. 

"Oh," said Arabella, as she colored slightly and bent 
her eyes to the ground, "I don't believe in keeping my 
mouth shut when any one is being misrepresented." 

" Then it was only your sense of justice, and not any 
feeling for me, that prompted your defense ? " 

Arabella grew redder and said nothing, and Philip 
stood there a few moments mutely looking at her. Sud- 
denly he dropped his valise to the ground, caught her in 
his arms and pressed a kiss on her lips. 

As he did so she looked up in his face and simply 
said : " Oh, doctor." 

When they parted a few minutes later, she to hurry 
to school and he to the city, they each carried happy 
hearts and smiling faces. 

The rest of our story is soon told. Philip was soon 
installed in the office of his old schoolmate, who then took 
his departure for California in search of health, only to 
find a resting place in that narrow house built by the 
sexton. 

The practice in Philip's hands grew and increased so 
94 



rapidly that ere the end of a year he felt justified in mak- 
ing a flying trip to Cincinnati and claiming the hand of 
Arabella in marriage. 

Shadrach, on the other hand, is still a bachelor, partly 
because he has never been able to get a school and earn 
enough to support a wife, and partly because he has not 
been able to find any young woman who has the courage 
to attempt to live with his " ma." 



DOCTOR POTTS' THEORY. 

To Doctor Potts, through long research, 
There came a brilliant thought 

Which seem'd, for poor untutored man, 
With much importance fraught. 

■' Why study years and years," said he, 
" Till brain and body tir'd, 
When all the knowledge in the world 
Could be at once acquir'd ?" 

He then began to seek a case 

His theory to prove, 
And every quibble, fear or doubt, 

From skeptic minds remove. 

Dame Fortune soon a subject brought ; 

A man with broken head 
Was found upon the street one night 

And given up for dead. 

95 



The doctor drew the broken bones 

From out the ghastly rent, 
Then deep into the cerebrum 

A hypodermic sent. 

The patient then was put to bed, 

But when the morning broke 
Uneasily he turned his head 

And from his stupor woke. 

The doctor said he must not read 

Until the wound had heal'd, 
But when it did, oh then there was 

A wondrous change reveal'd. 

Long since he had read each book they brought ; 

The paper, too, was stale, 
And though they pointed to the date. 

It was of no avail. 

They brought him books fresh from the press, 

But still his anger grew; 
He thought they were but joking him 

And called for something new. 

They told him stories long and short, 

And cracked the newest jokes; 
But to him they were old, so he drove them out 

With fierce and heavy strokes. 

He left the house and straightway went 

To see the latest play, 
But soon he found it was not new 

And quickly went his way. 

96 



He then tried books, both large and small, 
In Greek and French and Dutch, 

On philosophy, microscopy, 
Theosophy and such. 

Anatomy and botany, 

And anthropology, 
Astronomy, phlebotomy 

And every 'ology ; 

Yet found he could not gratify 
His wish for something new, 

As everythmg that could be learned 
He now already knew. 

So growing tired of such a life, 

He then in sheer despair 
Just took sufficient arsenic 

To end his sad career. 



POSTSCRIPT. 

When Doctor Fotts the sequel heard, 

And view'd the clammy corse, 
He did not long survive the shock, 
So keen was his remorse. 



97 



THE STORY OF A POEM. 

John Regenschirm was a self-made man, who was 
particularly proud of his own handiwork. 

He had cultivated the faculty of gaining wealth to 
the exclusion of all others. Music had no charms for 
him, and as for literature, it was his proud boast that he 
didn't '' read no poetry nor no novels." He considered 
all such literature frivolous, foolish and effeminate in the 
extreme. His reading was confined to the pages of the 
daily newspaper. The markets, weather, and occasionally 
politics, were the only features possessing any attraction 
for him. He had no time for the balance, even if he had 
been inclined to read them. 

He had retired from business with the intention of 
spending the remainder of his days in ease, which, how- 
ever, was not such an easy matter as he had anticipated. 
For a time he went down town every day to mingle with 
his former business associates, but they were as eager in 
the pursuit of wealth as he had been and had no time to 
devote to him. He realized that he was now no longer as 
prominent a figure as he had been, but was like a useless 
piece of driftwood, buffeted about in the busy stream. 
These reflections were not very consoling, and conse- 
quently his visits to the city gradually grew less and less 
frequent. 

He remained at home more and read the paper more 
thoroughly. He read every scrap of political news. He 
even read the horrible details of several murders and rail- 
road accidents. One day he became deeply interested in 
a circumstantial account of the hairbreadth escapes of a 
noted detective. Now it so happened that just below this 
narrative was a short poem. The poem had no connec- 



tion or relation whatever to the preceding tale, yet he 
unconsciously read the first verse of it before he realized 
what he was doing. When it dawned on him that he had 
actually been reading poetry he indignantly cast the paper 
aside. His curiosity, however, had been excited, and he 
soon picked it up again. He did not want to give in 
all at once, so he tried very hard to read an article on 
the " Tariff on Wool," but it was no use, so he capitulated 
and read the poem. He read it not only once, but sev- 
eral times, and also noted the name and address of the 
author. It even made such an impression on him that he 
was tempted to cut it out and preserve it, but he feared 
that the mutilated paper might betray his actions and give 
others an excuse to twit him. He read and reread it, 
however, till he had committed it to memory, and when 
he went down town the next day he bought another copy 
of the paper, cut out the poem and placed it m his pocket- 
book. 

The tone of the poem seemed to indicate a feeling of 

despondency on the part of the writer, and from reading 
it so often he began to be curious as to the author and to 
wonder just what kind of an individual he might be, and 
whether or not he felt as much dissatisfied with his condi- 
tion as he did. 

He had been turning the matter over in his mind for 
a couple of weeks, when it occurred to him that as the 
poet's home was less than three hours' ride by rail distant, 
he might take the morning train, make a flying trip, sat- 
isfy his curiosity and get back the same day, without his 
absence exciting suspicion. 

The next day but one he put his plan into execution. 

On arriving at his destination he was somewhat 
uncertain as to the best plan of pursuing his inquiries, 
as he was averse to attracting too much attention, so he 

99 



stepped into the waiting-room of the station and sat down 
to deliberate on the matter. 

While sitting there several citizens, who had come to 
the station to see the train pass by, also came in and sat 
down to rest and recover from their excitement. As luck 
w^ould have it, their conversation turned on the very sub- 
ject of most interest to Regenschirm. One of the villagers 
made a disparaging remark concerning the poet and 
another replied in defense, saying that even if he did 
nothing but write poetry and invent useless machines, 
while his mother was obliged to take in sewing in order to 
make a living, that he had a good heart, and then 
reminded the first speaker how he had helped to nurse 
the Peterson children when they had the diptheria and 
none of the neighbors would go near them, although the 
father and mother had been sitting up night after night 
and were completely tired out. 

This was a hint for Regenschirm, and without wait- 
ing for a second one he left the station and made his way 
into the village. He had no difficulty in finding the house 
he was looking for, as it was pointed out to him by the 
first person he asked. 

On reaching the front gate and seeing a shock-headed, 
dreamy-looking individual sitting on the porch, he was for 
a moment somewhat disconcerted, and not being certain 
whether that was the person he was after or not, he 
inquired : 

" Does Mr. Aufschneider live here ? " 

'' No, sir; there is no one of that name living in the 
village." 

'' There must be some mistake then, for I wanted to 
see him in regard to an invention and was directed to this 
house." 



'' Perhaps I am the person you are seeking. Wil 
you come in ? " 

Taking a vacant seat on the porch, Regenschirm 
declared his mission by explaining that he was nearly sev- 
enty years old, that he had earned his own living ever 
since he was ten years old, that he had attended strictly to 
business and had " never read no poetry or no novels." 

" What objection have you to poetry ?" 

*'Why, it's all tomfoolery and poppycock I've 
heard people reading it and for the life of me I couldn't 
see any sense in it. The idea of saying a little child's 
smile could melt an icy heart." 

* ' Why, what is wrong with that ? " 

''What is wrong? Why, who ever heard of a live 
man wiih a frozen heart? Why, it's all nonsense. It's 
all bosh! It isn't possible! If a man has anything to 
say, let him say it in plain English, so everybody can 
understand it." 

"Then you would have everything plain and without 
ornament ? " 

• " Yes, that's just it. That's my style exacdy." 

"You would raise hay in your front yard, instead of 
grass and flowers?" 

" No, I don't mean that, but — " 

"You would have no pictures on your walls, no cur- 
tains at your windows, no figures in your carpets?" 

"That isn't what I—" 

" You'd dress your wife and children like Quakers ? " 

"No, you don't understand. Flowers and pictures 
and nice clothes are all right, but — " 

" If they are all right, then why is it wrong for us 
to ornament our language in the same manner? Why 
is it wrong for us to cultivate the imagination, so that 
the poorest and meanest may see beauties in the Hfe about 



them that will give them nobler ideas and make them 
purer and better?" 

'^ Imagination doesn't buy bread and butter." 

"Perhaps not, but it enables its possessor to derive 
pleasures from his humble surroundings which were never 
dreamed of by those without imagination, and which can 
not help being elevating and refining in their tendency." 

Seeing that he was not making any headway in prov- 
ing the absurdity of poetry, Regenschirm reverted to the 
subject of invention, in which he pretended to be consid- 
erably interested. 

Enthusiastic on this, as he was on the previous subject,, 
the poet and inventor invited his guest to visit his work- 
shop. The room, not very large, was filled with models 
of all sorts, from a miniature flying machine to a mouse 
trap. 

In one corner was a rude model of a machine which 
had just been completed and in which Regenschirm at 
once became interested. The more he examined it the 
more he became satisfied that it embodied valuable fea- 
tures, and when he was obliged to take his departure it 
was with the promise of returning in a few days 

He had become as much interested in the machine as 
he had in the poem, and in a short time succeeded in get- 
ting others interested in it to such an extent that a stock 
company was organized, which bought the patent and 
paid the inventor a sum far in excess of his most san- 
guine expectations. 

The poet's mother now no longer takes in sewings 
but lives comfortably with her gifted son in their neat 
little home. All of which goes to show that a man may 
be of some use in this world even if he does occasion- 
ally write poetry and have it published in the daily papers. 



THE AMENITIES OF THE SICKROOM. 

When burning with fever and racked with pain, 

'Tis then so very nice 
To have a dozen aged dames 

To give me good advice. 

To have one say how badly I look, 

And gloomily shake her head. 
As she tells of a friend with the same disease 

Who now, alas, is dead. 

And how it soothes my shattered nerves. 

And drives my pain away. 
To tell each one just how I feel 

Five hundred times a day. 

And then the mixtures I must take, 

The plasters I endure, 
The lotions, pills and powders, too, 

And each a sovereign cure. 

Ah, yes, these dear, benevolent dames, 

I love each one so well 
That I'd like to explode a dynamite bomb 

And land them all m— heaven. 



103 



AN ALLEGORICAL DREAM. 

I seemed to be walking in the middle of a street, 
lined on either side by tall buildings. 

About two hundred yards in advance, and going in 
the same direction, was another man. 

Still farther beyond was a small, black object, which 
I took to be a kitten, and which, when the pedestrian had 
come within ten yards of it, sjM-ang toward him. 

Frightened at its aggressive conduct, the man turned 
and fled, pursued by the animal, which increased in size 
at each bound till it towered above its victim, and fell 
upon him, when within a few yards of where I stood, and 
tore him to pieces. 

Transfixed with horror and amazement, I stood like 
a statue, eyeing the fierce monster, which, satisfied that 
its victim was dead, was now approaching me. 

To flee was certain death, so, firmly grasping my 
heavy cane and flourishing it before me, I made a step 
forward, when lo ! the beast paused, and, as I advanced, 
began to retreat, though still facing me. Continuing to 
advance, it continued to retreat, and grew smaller and 
smaller. Pressing on past the bleeding corpse, the beast 
steadily diminished in size, till, on reaching its starting 
place, it suddenly disappeared. 

In surprise, I looked in eveiy direction to discover 
whence it had flown, but could see no trace of it. 

In looking around, I saw an old man leaning out of 
an upper window in one of the buildings, and, thinking 
he might explain the mystery, I asked him what this 
strange beast might be called. 

After contemplating me for a few moments, he said 
it was called calumny. 

104 



IN DEFENSE OF MANKIND. 

When I hear of those who are all too prone 

Their fellow-men to asperse ; 
Who loudly declare, when they read of a crime : 

'* We are going from bad to worse;" 

Who boldly assert, with an air which says, 

"Dispute it, if you can," 
That every one knows the dog and the horse 

Are better, far, than man ; 

It is then that I think these pessimists 

Have never received a hint 
Of the thousands of kind and praiseworthy deeds 

Which do not appear in print. 

And when they point to noble acts 

Performed by a wretched cur, 
I doubt if they know they're published, because 

It's so seldom they occur. 

With eyes for naught but the sins of men. 

They are like unto carrion crows 
That pass over what is pure and sweet 

For that which offends the nose. 



105 



CHILDHOOD DAYS. 



Oh give me back my childhood days, 
With their fictions believ'd to be true, 

When the ragman carried off all bad boys. 
And Santa Glaus came down the flue ; 

When mother would cry whene'er I was hurt, 
And cure me at once with a kiss ; 

When abundance of jam and ginger-cake 
Was the acme of earthly bliss ; 

When I rode about on my father's back. 

Who pranced quite vigorously. 
And I felt that none in all the earth 

Were as wise or as good as he ; 

When I thought it wicked to tell a lie. 

And worse to steal a pin. 
And had never a hint that this beautiful world 

Could be so full of sin. 

Yes, give me back my childhood days, 

From guile and hypocrisy free, 
When I rode about on my father's back, 

And shouted in childish glee. 



[o6 



ALONE. 

I'm jostl'd about by the hurrying throng 

That ebbs and flows through the busy streets; 

And everywhere I cast my eyes 

My glance but cold indifference meets. 

All are absorbed in their own affairs, 
And none from the beaten path depart 

To soothe my sorrow, ease my pain, 
Or help me bear my heavy heart. 

Not he who is cast on the desert isle. 
Or doomed to lie in the dungeon cell, 

Can feel as lonely as I have felt. 
Or half as sad a tale can tell. 



LIFE'S BATTLEFIELD. 

Oh, painter, when in thy happiest mood, 

Depict for me life's battlefield; 
Yet not the corse, or the bleaching skull, 

But, rather, the flowers 'neath which they're conceal'd. 



107 



AUTOGRAPHS. 

Ha, ha! Ho, ho! It-makes me laugh 
To think you'd want my autograph. 



As fickle as a weather-vane, 

As restless as a thistledown, 
As full of moods as an April day, 

And always looks out for number -''One. 



•A coquette, aged sixteen. 

An autograph ? That's all you want 

Why, bless your little heart. 
To think to write a verse or two, 

Requires so little art. 
You'll have to come another day, 

I'm very much afraid; 
My book of poems I can not find, 

My "specs" have been mislaid. 



Go seek through all the world ; 

Through palace and through hovel, 
And you'll scarce find so young a *girl 

To write so big a novel. 



*An aspiring miss, aged thirteen years, who began writing 
novel, but never finished the first chapter. 



FAME. 



'Tis by degrees of light and shade 
That lives of mortals are portrayed; 
Yet only when extremes contrast, 
Do they the public gaze arrest, 
1 08 



THE LONG-TAILED RAT AND THE DAPPER 
MOUSE. 

Come, children, and gather around my knee, 
And listen to what I shall tell to thee. 
'Tis a tale of woe and fortune's whim 
That's quite as true as those of Grimm. 

Long, long ago, when fairies were seen 
To dance upon the village green, 
'Tis said there lived in a tiny house 
A handsome, charming lady mouse. 

Her fame, which spread both far and wide, 
. Brought scores of suitors to her side. 
From every clime and every land 
They came to claim her dainty hand. 

Among the throng was a dapper mouse 
Who hoped that she might be his spouse. 
And brought to his aid, in his efforts to win, 
The tones evoked from a violin. 

The charming lady, to tell the truth, 
Seemed well disposed toward the youth ; 
But into the fire went all of his fat. 
When on to the scene came a long-tailed rat. 

The rat was accomplished and handsome they say ; 
There wasn't an instrument he couldn't play ; 
Then the verses he wrote, and his deep bass voice. 
Decided at once the fair lady's choice. 

109 



Alas ! for the mouse so dapper and sleek, 
He grew morose inside of a week, 
And said what dreadful things he would do. 
And raised an awful hullabaloo. 

The long-tailed rat settled down with his wife 
To enjoy the rest of his natural life ; 
And in spite of the mouse's furious rage 
They lived in peace to a ripe old age. 



THE DESERTED MILL. 

Thy crumbling stack and moldering walls 
A scene of long ago recalls, 
When people came from far and near 
The music of thy voice to hear, 
And brought the grain of golden hue 
Which in this fertile region grew ; 
But now, alas! that voice is hush'd. 
Thy pride has been completely crush'd. 
For he whom thou hast wealthy made 
To other scenes long since has stray'd. 
Thy services were soon forgot. 
And thou wert left to die and rot. 



SHADOWS. 

The shadows we see on a summer day 
So swiftly over the meadow play, 
Are like the grief which wrings our hearts, 
Yet makes us glad when it departs. 



THE COMBINATION. 

There was a young woman in our town 

Who aspired to be a poet, 
As her mind was a garden of beautiful thoughts, 

And she wanted the world to know it. 

She read every poem that she could find, 

Its style and figures dissected ; 
She studied its rhythm, its meter and feet, 

To learn how they were constructed. 

But all she saw was letters and points — 
So few, indeed, 'twas surprising — 

That she thought in them she had found at last 
The secret of improvising. 

She began at once to try her hand, 

But found, to her aggravation, 
She never, no matter how much she tried, 

Could hit the combination. 



THE VIOLET'S PLAINT. 

The poet was wont, in times gone by, 
To praise my shrinking modesty ; 
But now, a slave to fashion's whim, 
'Tis bold effrontery pleases him. 



A RARE GIFT. 

As each succeeding year grows old, 
And Christmas closer draws, 

My vagrant thoughts unbidden turn 
To dear old Santa Claus. 

My stocking by the fireside hung 

I hope that he will find, 
And in its very bottom place 

A gift of rarest kind. 

'Tis not to gold or precious stones 

To which I now refer ; 
'Tis neither glory, honor, fame, 

But something better far. 

A pair of magic spectacles 

To wear upon my nose, 
That I may see the joys of life, 

And not its many woes. 

That I may pass my days in peace, 

And envy be forgot ; 
To Hve unto the very end 

Contented with my lot. 



A SYNONYM. 

With spiderlike patience I've carefully searched 
My copy of " Crabb" from cover to cover ; 
Alas! 'twas in vain that I tried to find 
An apt synonym that for X might answer. 

Affectionate, generous, kind and good. 
Sprightly, obliging, sensible, cheerful, 
Compassionate, worthy, prudent, sincere, 
Amiable, candid, comforting, gentle — 
Are some of the words that rewarded my search 
But not one of these will fully describe her, 
And so then in order to be understood 
I'm obliged to use the sixteen together. 



A VALENTINE. 

A line or two, and nothing more. 

Yet still it serves an end. 
If our good wishes it convey 

To some beloved friend. 

If some, through envy, malice, hate, 

This day have utilized 
To vent their spite on every one 

By whom they've been despis'd. 

To no such mean, contemptible 

Intention I incline; 
For kindest greetings I would send 

In this, a valentine. 

"3 



IMAGINATION. 

There is a potent talisman 

To human eye unseen, 
Yet when I feel its influence 

A change comes o'er the scene. 

A fire leaps from my cheerless grate, 

Rich carpets hide the floor, 
Whilst on the walls once crack'd and stain'd 

Are paintings by the score. 

The light of day through pictured glass 

Sheds many a tinted ray 
Upon a nook where rarest books 

In wild profusion lay. 

Luxurious ease pervades the scene. 

The lounge invites repose, 
And sinking back in sweet content 

I soon begin to doze. 

Yet still it falls by far too short ; 

Its power though fully spent 
Will neither pay my grocer's bills, 

Nor liquidate the rent. 



114 



THE FIRST OF APRIL. 

How well do I remember 

When I stood at my mother's knee, 
And listened in childish wonder 

To this tale of antiquity : 
How the fools of every nation, 

Lamenting their many woes, 
Were gathered in a queer convention, 

Like a flock of noisy crows; 
How impending extermination 

Had so wrought upon their fears 
That with many a protestation, 

And an ocean or two of tears, 
They sent up a long petition. 

In which they Jove besought 
That the Killer's devastation 

Be suddenly brought to naught. 
How Jove to their pray'r attended. 

And decreed the Killer should die ; 
So, as long as time extended. 

They'd increase and multiply ; 
How they this message hearing, 

Nor paused to offer thanks. 
Began, no danger fearing. 

To play their foolish pranks. 
And how this day eventful, 

My mother did relate, 
Was on the first of April, 

Which they still commemorate. 



i'5 



INDIGENOUS. 

A little seed, by the breezes borne, 
A lodging place in my bosom found, 

Where glances shot from two bright eyes 
Had made a deep and piercing wound. 

Water'd by tears it began to grow, 
And into my heart its rootlets dipp'd; 

Its tender branches quickly spread, 
Each with a fragrant blossom tipp'd. 

Deeply I breathed their perfume rare, 
And felt it tingle through every A^ein ; 

Boundless joy and bliss were mine, 
And gone were every care and pain. 

This little plant which has the power 
To change a falcon to a dove. 

Or spur us on to noble deeds — 

You ask its name ? They call it Love. 



A SPUNKY MAIDEN. 

There was a young man named Fred, 
Who a certain young maiden would wed, 
But got full as a goose. 
On some very strong juice, 
And had to be put into bed. 

This stirr'd up the maiden's spunk; 
Of her mind she gave him a chunk, 

And quite forcibly said 

She never would wed 
A man who'd go and get — delirious. 
ii6 



WINTER. 

When winter swoops down from his home in the North, 
To bluster about like a fierce old brigand, 

To kill all the flowers, to drive off the birds, 

And to lock up the streams with his cold, icy hand ; 

'Tis then that I sigh for the fragrance of spring, 

For a sight of the cows 'neath the wide spreading tree. 

For the musical song of the babbling brook, 
As it hastes on its way to the far distant sea ; 

For the hum of the bees, for the bleat of the sheep, 
And the fancies that come on a still summer night; 

And I shudder to think how bleak and how drear 
Are the hills and the valleys in their mantle of white. 

Oh, the winter's for those in the vigor of youth. 
With never a fear of its withering breath ; 

But the feeble and old view its coming with dread. 
For to them it is naught but an emblem of death. 



17 



THE SCHOOLMA'AM. 

Like the genial warmth of spring 
And the cheerful notes of the birds, 

Are her bright and pleasant smile 
And her kind and gentle words. 

The frail and the tender chords 
In the hearts of those future men 

Respond to her delicate touch, 
To vibrate again and again. 

Inspired with kindness and love, 
She labors from year to year. 

And is doing the noblest work 
Vouchsafed to woman's sphere. 

Could we but sit in that school. 

Who've been worn by care and strife. 

That our sear'd and wither'd hearts 
Might be quickened anew with life. 



iiS 



NIPPED. 

With lofty impulse seiz'd, 

Like Cervantes' errant knight, 

I boldly sallied forth 
To set the world aright. 

My lance, a caustic pen; 

A trenchant style, my steed; 
My armor — thick and strong — 

Unlimited conceit. 



Disheartened, weary, sore, 

At last I've changed my mind. 
The cause? Some printed slips: 
" Respectfully declined." 



19 



BUT WHAT DOES IT ALL AMOUNT TO? 

As children, we whine and fret and fuss 
If others get more than is given to us; 
But what does it all amount to ? 

As scholars, we strive each other to pass 
In our eager desire to be first in our class ; 
But what does it all amount to ? 

As lovers, we rave o'er a pair of bright eyes, 
Which we swear have stolen their tints from the skies ; 
But what does it all amount to ? 

As merchants, we try our pow'r to extend. 
And to lay up wealth for others to spend ; 
But what does it all amount to ? 

As poets, we strike the resounding lyre, 
And hope that its echoes may never expire ; 
But what does it all amount to ? 

As soldiers, on fame and glory intent, 
The blood of mankind in torrents is spent ; 
But what does it all amount to ? 

As statesmen, we soon into parties divide. 
And fiercely berate the opposite side ; 
But what does it all amount to ? 

Like the snow that melts and passes away, 
We live and we die, are forgotten next day, 
And that's about all it amounts to. 

120 



